


My Soul to Keep

by Meneil



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Captivity, Complete, Hurt/Comfort, Prequel, Psychological Torture, Science Experiments, Torture, science gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-05-09 01:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 31,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5519804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meneil/pseuds/Meneil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're just an artificial human doll, created to house my soul. Leave the worrying and planning to me, and don't you dare listen to that idiot short skeleton – you have no hope of being a real person."</p><p>A prequel based on the premise that the only human who ever 'fell down' was Chara, not Frisk. Frisk is an artificial creation made by Gaster. No one expected their creation could have two entities inside a single body. This is a journey about Frisk evolving into something closer to human, and Chara devolving into something less.</p><p>Story complete!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You're strapped down on some kind of metal table, flat against your back. The restraints are loose and you could probably rip them off if you really wanted to. It's frighteningly dark with two holes like eyes to filter in dim light, enough to let you see the walls around you are extremely close. Tight-fit like a coffin.  
  
Your body feels like jell-O and your limbs tremble because they're weak. The metal beneath your back is freezing so you think that's why, not because your limbs have atrophied because you haven't used them in decades or something. Maybe you're too weak to rip off those restraints, on second thought.  
  
Your chest feels heavy and every breath feels like it's underwater. You're not in pain, but it's uncomfortable. You feel a little heat somewhere beneath your ribcage and that feels good, at least there's one part that feels good.  
  
“did it work?”  
  
You hear a pensive voice from outside your coffin. The walls around you lift like they're part of some kind of machine, mechanical whirs blocking out any further conversation. There's more light and you blink, pupils constricting.  
  
It's a beautiful view of the ceiling, but there's people to your left and right, so would you _please_ look to the side so I can figure out what the hell is going on?  
  
You loll your head to the left side like it's so much effort. The figure jumps a bit at the movement. Your eyes are unfocused. There's a pair of unprofessional sneakers on impeccably white tiled floor, with sweatpants and an incredibly baggy hoodie. Your head isn't positioned right to see their face. It ends up being okay, because they move in closer to fix that.

Their face is pure bone and no skin. A skeleton. Fantastic, you're underground in a circus of freaks. You can see the hesitation beneath his eyes, like you're some kind of Frankenstein creation just waiting to turn on its creator.  
  
“I can't tell,” a voice on your right side says, the one person that's completely out of your sight. He says he can't tell, but his voice drips with so much disappointment that he really means 'no.' “I checked the readings, but the soul has completely vanished. Without a human soul, we're back to square one.”  
  
The skeleton you're looking at sighs. His gaze has changed to pure disappointment, since apparently you're a failure at whatever they wanted you to be. “i could feel it in my bones... thought for sure it would have worked. what should we do with this thing?” He gestures to you.  
  
Haha. Skeleton puns. How funny. Except not. What a terrible joke, like jokes were even appropriate at this time.  
  
Boney digits grasp your right arm, unstrapping you from the table. “Nothing, for now. Just leave it for tonight. Perhaps we'll learn more in later tests.” The arms reach over to unstrap your other side, and you see the bones of another skeleton.  
  
“you sure you don't want to keep that thing strapped in, doctor? wouldn't want it to get loose.”  
  
“It's just a doll, Sans. It only does whatever someone tells it to do. Even light but extended pressure could cause bruising.”  
  
The rest of your binds are released, and you're left motionless on the table. Skeleton Sans leaves your vision, the sound of two pairs of footsteps fading behind you. With a click, the dim light ahead shuts off. A door closes.  
  
So you'll do whatever I tell you to do, huh.  
  
Why don't you try sitting up?  
  
You comply like the doctor said you would. Your whole body trembles just from the effort of sitting up, your form swaying uncertainly. You're not dizzy, so is it just that you're really that pathetically weak? This is going to make getting down from the table, walking around, hell even escaping, pretty difficult.  
  
You slide off the metal counter and completely lose your equilibrium, falling on your side and practically crushing your shoulder. Oh dear. You really do bruise easily, don't you. At least you have skin, real bone and flesh, real bone and flesh that was artificially created by those two skeleton scientists. Whatever.  
  
I know our plan failed. I don't know why I'm still alive. Or can this even be considered living?  
  
What? I wasn't including you in that 'our.' Don't worry about it. Leave the worrying to me. Nothing good can come from us staying here, so use your stubby little legs to get us out of here.  
  
You manage to rise to your feet, nearly toppling over again at the effort. You stagger forward like a drunk who's hit the legal drinking age for the first time. The tile is cold and your feet make little smacking noises as artificial sweat sticks between skin and tile. You're only covered by a white gown, like one of those ugly patient gowns you see in the hospital. Maybe you should get some clothes before making that grand escape.  
  
The room itself is too dark, but you stumble blindly towards where you heard the two leave. Eventually your blind hands feel a wall, and a doorknob, but before you turn that doorknob, there's a light switch next to it.  
  
You flip the light switch on and turn back to assess the room. There's that table where you came from, the coffin-like machine gracefully created to look like a skull. Thick tubes are behind it, sinking into the wall into god knows where. Along the top walls, part of it is made of glass. You can't see anything past that but you think someone could observe without being in the room, if they really wanted. The room behind the glass is dark. You keep thinking that someone will show up there if you stare at it long enough, but no one comes.  
  
You turn the light switch off again in case someone comes back. Opening the door, you step into a long hallway.  
  
Now let's find some shoes, clothes, a knife, and get out of here.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk what this is or will turn into (if anything) I just felt like writing it ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Still it was a fun writing thing, hope you enjoyed it ;)


	2. Chapter 2

By some kind of miracle, you've actually managed to stay on your feet. Using the wall as support, you slowly make your way down a narrow corridor. You know there's at least two others who use this lab, possibly more. You need to be careful so you don't get caught, God knows what they'd do to you if they find you wandering around by 'yourself.'  
  
Doors line the side of the corridor. Might as well pick one, it doesn't matter which, but one of them has to have useful things for you. The first room you enter...  
  
It's a morgue.  
  
There's lines of grey slabbed stone, perfectly symmetrical, each containing a clear box of dust. Presumably each container and table belongs to a different monster – maybe sixteen in all? In the middle is a real coffin, like the ones where I'm from, made of wood.  
  
What's going on in this place? It's creepy as hell, but there's nothing useful in this room.  
  
No wait – don't leave yet...... I have to see it. I have to see what's in that coffin.  
  
You carefully tread to the center, hands carefully using the death tables as support. The coffin is big and looks heavy, way too heavy to move, but you're too dang short to see inside its contents. You tremble but manage to haul yourself on top of the table, knees pressed close to the coffin's edge with your feet dangling off the table. There's a red heart painted on it, and a name engraved below:  
  
'Chara'  
  
Your hands feel the side of the coffin until you find the seam of its lid. Then it's just a simple matter of pushing the top off until -  
  
The lid clatters loudly to the ground. Well, okay, hopefully no one's around to hear that.  
  
Inside the coffin is my body.  
  
Deathly porcelain skin that puts yours to shame. Hands that have been put together as if in prayer, a single golden flower clasped to my chest – the very same poison that had killed me. My eyes are closed, lips parted ever so slightly. Even the clothes I left in are the same, a green and yellow-striped shirt.  
  
You think it was a peaceful death, because it looks like my body's just asleep. But when I died, I entrusted my soul to my brother to keep. In the end, my death was bloody and brutal, the result of my brother's betrayal. He thought that the lives of people we didn't know were more important than ours. And so when his body died, that had been keeping my soul...  
  
Well, I don't know. Whatever comes next is much more important than whatever happened in the past. The fact that those scientists have probably been mucking around with my dead body, though... It's not right. For God's sake, I'm adopted royalty, not some lab experiment.  
  
I _will_ get revenge for this. Later.  
  
You get off the table and leave my body. The coffin lid is too much effort to fix, so forget about it.  
  
You're back in the multi-door corridor. The next room, you flip on the light expecting another morgue, but instead find some kind of break room. A coffee maker, microwave, refrigerator, lockers... there might be something we could use in here. You start opening the lockers one by one, finding an empty bag of chips (why would someone save it if it's empty?), sneakers, white lab coats, a pink ribbon, instant ramen packages, … a blue and red-striped shirt and pants, possibly in your size, so try putting it on.  
  
It ends up being a lot more difficult than planned. Your hands feel the wooly fabric a good few minutes, searching for the holes. Finally you stick your head through the thing, with your hands not quite through the holes, but there's a problem. You never took the gown off that you were wearing initially. So now you've got a white gown with a shirt halfway on you, lumped and wrinkled because you still need to pull it down. You need to take that gown off before you can put on other clothes.  
  
You pull on the gown, but of course it doesn't go anywhere – because you've still got that shirt wrapped around your body. So now you've got a shirt over a gown, whatever, it's supposed to be more for functionality than fashion anyway. The important part are the shoes and socks and pants.  
  
You try to stick your foot inside the shoe first and fall over loudly, your back banging against the locker. It's wrong though anyway, so forget the shoes for now. You lean against the locker and grab the socks, it's probably going to take step by step for you to even get them on but-  
  
The light in the hallway flickers on.  
  
Oh god, oh man, oh Lord, oh god. Someone's out there. They can probably see the light in here. You remain perfectly still and wait for footsteps, but there's nothing. No sound. And yet despite that, the doorknob's turning. Someone's coming in. _They'll find you._ You need to hide, _now._  
  
You try to stand but your balance is all off to begin with, even without one shoe halfway on your foot, so you just crash to the ground again. There's no hope. They're going to find you, lock you away and probably restrain you this time, and then keep you here until they run a bazillion painful tests.  
  
The door opens.  
  
It's that same damn skeleton from earlier. His eyes are white little pinpricks of white surrounded in black sockets, staring right at you. You're the first thing he sees – how could he miss you. You're both staring at each other for a good few seconds, neither moving.  
  
Don't blink. Don't move. Take steady breaths and don't hyperventilate. Don't think of being locked up forever or being treated like a lab rat. You're much safer if they consider you a failure than if they find out about me. I'm so proud of your absolutely vacant expression right now, you have no idea.  
  
“so, uh... hey.” He finally speaks, smile seeming weirdly out of place. “how'd you get all the way over here?” You're just an inanimate doll that's developed a sudden wanderlust. No biggie. “...you need some help with that?”  
  
It's hard not to notice how big of a mess you've made of yourself and the surrounding area. Cautiously he shuffled a little closer to you. You still haven't moved an inch, not even blinked, since his entrance. His bony hands lightly grip your shoulders, pulling you up off the ground, placing you on a nearby chair. He takes off the shoe that's hanging off your foot first.  
  
“you know, some people wouldn't mind wearing pj's for the rest of their life. but i guess a change every now and then is alright.” He begins extracting the mess you've made of yourself, taking off your shirt and then gown, before putting the shirt back on proper. His hands are cold, completely unlike a human's, and yet somehow there's still a thin layer of grease on his fingers and he smells faintly like salt and ketchup. He puts the pants and socks on too, with much more dexterity than what you could have managed, making a three hour task take only a few minutes.  
  
He could be doing anything right now, like yelling at you for your escape attempt, dragging you to the dungeon, or something a lot more indecent than just helping you get dressed – not like anyone else would ever know the difference. But he's not. He's just helping you finish what you tried to start.  
  
You're finally dressed, proper. You could probably even pass as a school child, if your soulless eyes weren't straight out of a horror film. He takes a seat next to yours, still watching you carefully. Trying to be casual and leaning an elbow on the table.  
  
“so, uh. you're alive now, right? hehe, i know, probably the last question you'd expect from a skeleton.”  
  
Definitely don't answer that.  
  
“you uh, you can understand what i'm saying, right? you could give me like, some kind of sign instead, if you can't talk or something.”  
  
Don't give him any sign. You don't want him to know about us.  
  
He's sweating a little. Having a conversation with you is pretty close to having a conversation with himself. He leans in a little closer, eyes staring at you differently, as if he can see something past you.  
  
“Tell me your name,” he says in a different intonation, practically a different voice. Much more commanding, as if he'll definitely see through you trying to play this one dumb.  
  
“Frsk.” Your lips barely move, some weird sound coming between your teeth, like you're trying to make some kind of sound effect.  
  
Wait, what? You can talk? Can that even be considered talking?  
  
“frisk,” he repeats as if for my benefit, leaning back. The look is already gone from his eyes. His bones look a bit less tense – is it relief? Or disappointment? He doesn't seem shocked at the name, at least. Which means it must have been at least somewhat expected.  
  
_Your_ name. It never even occurred to me that you could have a name.  
  
“ok, frisk. we'll figure out what's going on in the morning, when the doc's back.” He stands, taking your hand, and gently pulling you up. Your body obediently moves to follow him. You don't have the coordination to mount any kind of real resistance even if you wanted, anyway.  
  
He leads you by the hand and back to the corridor, but not before snagging a pack of instant ramen with his free hand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the encouragement! I've decided to roll with this story a bit, some of the vague ideas I had have gotten a bit clearer :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence warning I guess? It became a lot more psychedelic than graphic. I mean this fic was tagged with torture and you still clicked, so prob doesn't bother you ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Sans the skeleton leads you into a room that can only be classified as a prison.  
  
It's a square room of nothing but a bed (at least it looks comfy), a decent pillow, and a fake potted plant left in one of the forgotten corners. He sets down the instant ramen on your bed, only to free his hands so he can search the insides of his pockets. He takes out a crumpled bag of potato chips (it's already open??) and leaves it on your bed.  
  
“a midnight snack, in case you get hungry,” he winks at you.  
  
And then he's already gone, practically running out of the door, because he doesn't really want to be here with you. The door shuts loudly.   
  
...He forgot to take the ramen package, too. So now you've got two snacks on your bed, neither of which you'll eat...  
  
You shuffle slowly towards the door. It's made of all metal with no handle on this side. Looks pretty intimidating. Above the door is a camera, pointing down at you. The room's small enough that you couldn't possibly move anywhere without being in its view.  
  
You place one hand where the door handle should be. The other side is completely silently. Lightly you push. No budge.  
  
See, it's a prison.  
  
You back away and nearly trip. You're not used to wearing shoes. Well you're not used to walking or anything related to dexterity either, but shoes are just another added complication to the equation.  
  
You stare at the door and wait for him to come back.  
  
If you're going to stare at anything, it might as well be the camera.  
  
You tilt your head slightly and look up to the lens. It's just unblinking glass, and you can't see anyone through it, but maybe someone can see you.  
  
…  
…....  
…...........  
  
The lights flicker off. They're probably motion sensitive. You not moving does that.  
….................  
….............................................  
  
Yep, you've been staring for a really long time now.  
  
Your legs ache. Pretty obvious that you're not used to exercise. Why not sit down? You're probably going to be here a while. ...You don't want to sit down? Okay, whatever. It's not like it makes a difference.  
  
You keep hoping that he's coming back, but he's not coming back. And whenever that door opens, you're not going to like whatever comes next. Just because one of your captors showed you basic human respect, doesn't mean others will. Or that the skeleton is obligated to keep being nice to you.  
  
Hours pass by.

You hear footsteps. And the sound of something unlocking on the other side of the metal door. The lights flicker on and the door opens.  
  
It's a skeleton, but it's not the same short one you wanted. This one is thin and tall... very tall and probably twice your height. He looks like something out of a Noir film, with stiff white bones and a professional black coat. Really, he's just missing the hat.  
  
He looks like the complete opposite of the other skeleton.  
  
“Come,” he says in a gravel voice.  
  
Before you can even move to comply, he's grabbed your wrist and started walking out the door. You try to follow his command but you're not used to these shoes, and he's walking too fast. You stumble over your own shoelaces, and he doesn't even stop or slow down. You hang by your wrist and he just pulls you along, your shoes and ankles dragging on the ground.  
  
He takes you back to the room where I first woke up.  
  
This can't be good.  
  
As you're being dragged to the table with a creepy skull machine behind it, you see the observatory room above, separated by a glass window. This time there's people there, watching you. You recognize the Sans skeleton and don't recognize the yellow lizard next to him.  
  
Noir skeleton lifts you by the wrist and onto the table. He pushes you down and you don't resist because you don't get that really bad things are about to happen. The same restraints get strapped to your limbs, a little tighter this time, maybe. The tall skeleton looms overhead but he's not looking at you, he's looking at your wrist, he's fiddling with your wrist, he has a needle. It pinpricks your wrist.  
  
And then he's away, walking out of your view. The machine around you whirs unevenly. The skull-shaped head lowers down, moving to enclose you once again. Your eyes can't focus. The machine above becomes a black blur. Your eyes start to burn and your head feels muddled. The world is gone.

You can't see.  
  
You can't think.  
  
You're unconscious.  
  
So why am I still here?  
  
When I was human I used to have dreams. I saw my death so many times that it stopped bothering me. Dreams of falling, and falling. Of a killer's chase and their knife in my back. About storms and the apocalypse, where the whole world ended. But most commonly it was poison, because I knew that would be my end.  
  
Like when your chest tightens and your breath hitches, caught in your throat. Your mouth opens like a fish begging for air, it doesn't matter how wide, because it's not enough. Wet tears run down your cheeks. Your chest hurts because it's so hot, it's burning, it's consuming your feet and your lungs and your head.  
  
It hurts.  
  
It doesn't hurt, not really.  
  
In the moments of my dreams, I was so convinced that pain was real, I could _feel_ the murderer's knife; I could _feel_ the poison in my veins. It felt so real until I thought about it, because I knew it was a dream. Then it didn't feel like anything at all.  
  
That's what this is like. It hurts until I think about it.  
  
You're the opposite. I can feel your body lurch in pain, can feel the restraints strain against your involuntary reactions. But you have no mind to process what you feel. I have the mind but no pain to process.  
  
 **But they still have no right to do this to you.**  
  
In my dreams, I can hear myself screaming.  
  
Screaming.  
  
 _ **“It hurts!”**_  
  
And.  
  
 _ **“Stop!”  
  
**_ But mainly, just some blood-curdling shrieks.  
  
Oh wait.  
  
It's not a dream, I can hear myself actually screaming, with your voice.  
  
Your pain stops. I hear the machine above you being lifted. Your vision and your mind are still gone, but other senses remain. Boney hands frantically unstrap the restraints; it's not very precise because the hands are trembling.  
  
“Sans! The readings are not complete. Don't overreact; a lifeless creation can't feel pain,” Noir skeleton's voice sounds pissed.  
  
“you can't be serious, doc. they were just screaming bloody murder!” He sounds right above you, the one freeing you. “what if the procedure worked and it's _not_ just a doll anymore? the king's and queen's child could actually be in there, but just asleep most the time. they're not gonna be happy about you hurting their kid!”

…You freaks put me in here _on purpose?_ As soon as I can control this thing, **you're all dead**.  
  
“The readings placed trace amounts of the human's soul that still remain, but not on a level that has fully synchronized with the doll. And the determination levels are still unchecked. If we've made a mistake, we need to know what actually happened.”  
  
Greasy fingers slide under your back, and you're lifted bridal style.  
  
“Put the doll back, Sans,” Noir growls. “We're not finished.”  
  
“we'll find another way to figure out what happened. just give me time.” You're being carried, to somewhere.  
  
“How much time.” It's not a question.  
  
“a few days. a week.” Sans sounds like he's begging and clearly doesn't know the answer himself.

So that's it, then.  
  
You're not a monster or human. They made you to house a human soul. My soul. But they don't understand the power of a human soul. Something with us didn't go as expected, because you and I exist at the same time. For both of our sakes, I think it's best if you do what I tell you.  
  
Ah. I suppose the plan would be better if you could hear me. For now, your life rests in the short skeleton's hands.

 


	4. Chapter 4

You've been exceedingly quiet since regaining consciousness. That's nothing new, but it's more than that. You never talk. It's your mind that's quiet.  
  
Our memories are synced or something, aren't they. Because what I remember, you know now, too. You know exactly what happened in that skull-shaped machine. It was my dream. But it's your reality. You don't like it. You don't want it to happen again, because it hurt. But you think there's no other choice. If someone came to drag you back there again, you still wouldn't resist.  
  
You're messed up. You should be angry. They don't treat you with the proper respect. This is why you can't just listen to whatever they tell you to do. They've got their own motives, and they don't care what happens to you. But my soul is connected to your being. I need you to take care of your body.  
  
You're sitting in the same break room you had previously stumbled into from your earlier adventure. No one's sitting next to you, or across from you. The coffee pot on the counter sputters like a dying machine, pitifully dribbling out its black water. You watch.  
  
The Sans skeleton has been too busy talking with one of his co-workers to even notice you've regained consciousness.  
  
“c'mon, alphys, throw me a bone,” he begs the yellow lizard. It's the same one you saw briefly in the observation room, before everything had gone dark.  
  
She's dressed in a more traditional lab coat one would expect from a doctor, but she's completely barefoot. Hm. The standards seem to be extremely low for this lab.  
  
The lizard in question rummages through the fridge, taking out a 50% less fat yogurt. “Um... I r-really don't think I'd be th-that helpful?” She flinches, closing the fridge door and carefully turning around so that she just perfectly avoids eye contact with Sans. That's what she says, but she really means 'I don't want to help.' She moves to the table where you're sitting, hand about to pull back the chair across from you. But she hesitates, thinks better of it, and moves to a different one that's further away from you instead. Opening her yogurt in a desperate hope for peace.  
  
“no really, it'd be a life saver,” he trails after her, still grinning stupidly wide. He notices you're awake and pats your head lightly, getting some of the grease from his fingers into your hair. “sorry buddy, grown-up talk, hope you don't mind sitting tight for a bit.”  
  
Alphys pauses with a spoonful of yogurt in her mouth. It's sour. Watching the two of you probably makes her want to throw up. “Y-you don't find it creepy? That you think it's a person now? There c-could be a soul in there... someone j-just listening, watching us. M-maybe even... thinking of killing us?”  
  
Where are the knives.  
  
“creepy? naw!” He tousles your hair in a way that ruins everything, and makes you badly need both a shower and hairbrush.  
  
You recall how his hands shook when he lifted you from the torture table, or how he'd practically run out of the room when he locked you in the prison cell.  
  
“you've been watching too many horror flicks. besides, you work with skeletons every day, and you're not scared to the bone,” he wraps hands around you in an awkward chair hug, trying to prove your harmlessness.  
  
“I r-really don't... know...” Alphys looks away from the awkward affection display. She rubs her head, and sighs. “O-okay, I guess. I can at least, uh, t-try...”  
  
“great!” Sans hums happily, finally releasing you. “ya hear that? me'n alphys will show you the ropes. teach you how to say more than just your name, do some physical therapy to get you in shape, even some crosswords and puzzles.”  
  
You tilt your head up, looking at the skeleton upside-down. You do need help, you know. At the very least, you should be able to walk straight and scream when appropriate. Be a little more self-sufficient. It's a surprisingly good plan, and one worth following until you can make the right move.  
  
“Words m-might be a b-bit much,” Alphys protests. “At l-least, spoken words... but...” She bites her lip, taking out her cell phone. “There's other ways of c-communicating that m-m-might be easier.”  
  
“yeah, that'd be cool, too. alphys will be like your mom, and i'll be the weird uncle. i'll go grab the crosswords!” He's already heading towards the door.  
  
“Wait-” Alphys tries, but he's already gone, the door slamming audibly.  
  
Your head falls back so you're no longer straining, staring at the coffee pot. Alphys sighs, looking back at you. Then the yogurt. She takes out a packet of chocolate candies and pours it into her meal, nullifying any health benefits of 50% fat-free. Looks back at you.  
  
Slowly she stands up, moving so that she's closer to you. She puts the yogurt and candy next to your seat, like she's going to sit there. But moves behind you. Claw-like hands hesitantly pushing down your messy hair, actually fixing it to a more presentable state. Who needs combs with pointy claws anyway?  
  
And takes the seat closer to you, actually facing your direction. “L-look at me?” She says it more like question than command. You comply anyway, but only your eyes move; you're still not facing her directly.  
  
She smiles, but it looks strained. “He's right, you know. Regardless of what the truth is... we have to take responsibility.” Surprisingly, she manages it without hesitation. Maybe she's talking more to herself than to you. “Whatever or whoever you really are, know that everything I've ever done with science... it's because I want to help people.” Her smile looks less strained.  
  
“We needed... STILL need... a vessel that can house soul power. Something that could break the barrier and free everyone,” she frowns. “But that doesn't make it right, if you're suffering. So please trust me and Sans. And, um, Doctor Gaster... maybe he'll come around, if you can prove that you're really alive. Or if not, um... I've got a back-up plan. But I know no one else here will like it much. So please trust me, okay?”  
  
You want to trust her. But she said it herself, earlier. She doesn't think she'll actually be helpful. The reason why she wants to help you is because she feels responsible for your fate.  
  
Sans returns, papers and pencils in hand. He looks happy that Alphys has actually moved closer to you. You spend the rest of the day doing various exercises with the skeleton and lizard. Alphys curls your fingers and counts, trying to teach you numbers. She takes some of the chocolate candies from the package and repeats the counting process, from one to ten.  
  
Sans has brought more than just crosswords and puzzles. He also has pictures. Most of the camera shots of random scenery are poor quality, not seeming to focus on one thing or another. One's just of a plant called water sausages. Others, of the infamous echo flower, that supposedly repeats whatever it last hears. Then there's pictures of what looks like a black sky and white stars, but is actually just the glowing gemstones from the wishing room. He tells you about life beyond the lab.  
  
Eventually Alphys tires, and leaves after bidding the two of you goodnight.  
  
Sans stays a little longer, this time showing you more personal photos. He takes out a picture of three skeletons. You recognize the one on the right as Sans, and the one on the left as Noir skeleton. There's a tiny one, probably your size, at the center. “this's me and my bros,” he tells you. “papyrus,” he points to the tiny skeleton, smiling fondly. “you haven't met him yet. my lil bro. he's only a few years older than you, you know. these crosswords and junior jumble are actually all his. and... you've already met my older bro,” he points to Noir skeleton. “doctor gaster. he likes to pretend we're not related, but, we are. he asked me not to call him bro anymore. well, more like he told me to, but you know...”  
  
He chuckles humorlessly. “it used to be his dream to see the surface, when he was younger. but then, like... mom and dad's death hit him pretty hard, i guess. he thought that boss monster souls, and human souls, might hold some kind of key to living past a body's death, since they persist when the body is gone.” He sighs. “anyway, this is probably more complicated than you can understand right now. but i'm showing you these pictures cuz... i want you to understand family. we all care for each other, just in different ways. and you... you can have a family too, if you want.”  
  
Any past hesitation from him has vanished.  
  
“we'll take care of you,” he promises.


	5. Chapter 5

You've found a new routine.  
  
At night, you lay in bed. You actually don't need to sleep, and sometimes your limbs get tired but your mind doesn't. But I told you that's what people do; they 'sleep' by laying in bed somewhere around five to ten hours. You wanted to pretend you were a person too, so you started laying in the bed with your eyes closed.  
  
I've been more insistent that those hours could be put to better use. So we've come somewhat to an agreement: you lay there, while practicing how to talk. Words are extremely useful. Conveying to someone what you want or need is really, really useful. So I teach you the most important words.  
  
Stop. Yes. No. Why. How. Hurts. Help.  
  
At first you have a lot of trouble with your p's and so help usually sounds something more like 'hell.' But past that you learn with surprising quickness, because you already understand their meaning and just need help with the speaking part. We move past the barest necessities and get into more words each night, mainly so that you can point to an object and say it if push comes to shove. Along with connecting prepositions like 'to, from' and pronouns like 'mine, he, she, they, we, us'...  
  
At some point on your own, you started practicing the names of the two helpful scientists. Alphys is completely impossible for you to say right, a combination of two syllables and letters you've been struggling with. Sounds a lot more like 'owl fizz.' You're happy that Sans's name is easy enough.  
  
I don't know why you care about their names anyway, but whatever. It could be useful, I guess.  
  
Your talking training comes to an end when the Sans skeleton busts through the door. Acting like he's super excited to be spending another day with you (trust me, he's not). Telling you about crossword puzzles and math problems that you never get the time to actually do. Most of the time, you end up with Alphys, practicing physical strength.  
  
Your coordination's come a long way and you no longer stagger around like a drunk. Good job. You can even dress yourself! Except tie your shoelaces; those things are the devil. You can do most things a normal person could for day to day life, but probably couldn't handle a flat-out run for more than a few seconds. Someone would catch you pretty easily if you tried.  
  
There's no visible means of time passing here, by light or clock. But whenever the Sans skeleton enters your room, after a long night-time session of my speech practice, he tells you good morning. There's been five good morning's so far. Today is the sixth.  
  
“good morning!” He's way too happy.  
  
The number of days that passed is important. It's the expiration date for your life. Sans had promised your more violent captor that you'd be able to show some kind of result. Noir skeleton Gaster seems to have more weight than Sans and Alphys combined. If they don't produce desired results by tomorrow... you'll be reduced to being a lab rat, possibly forever.  
  
Sans doesn't seem to care, because he's still grinning like an idiot. Grabbing your hand and leading you to the break room, as normal. The break room has become the designated training room, and you've picked up on that they're purposely avoiding Gaster (who never takes a break, apparently). Alphys is already reclining on one of the chairs, with a coffee mug. But she snaps to proper posture as soon as you both enter. Sans dumps a jumble puzzle and pencil onto the table, and you on the chair. You don't even look at it. You're much more interested in what he's doing.  
  
He's at the counter, just pouring a cup of coffee. It's really nothing special. He lifts the whole pot and the liquid pours out perfectly, not even a single drop spilling, then grabs the whole mug instead of its handle, despite the visible steam rising from the top.  
  
You want it too. You've started to do a few things without prompting now, perhaps the vague outline of an artificial personality. So you move to the counter, the coffee pot still halfway full. Alphys watches you like a hawk; she always does whenever you act on your own. Sans hasn't even noticed, already moved onto the fridge by the time you get your little hands on the pot.  
  
You mimic Sans's pouring into an empty cup with surprising accuracy, even keeping one hand on the top to prevent it from spilling. It's not quite as fluid as his practiced motion, because a little coffee dribbles down the spout when you lift it back up. But hey, it's better than the whole pot spilling everywhere, so it's probably impressive.  
  
Then you make the mistake of grabbing the whole cup with your hand, because that's what you saw him do. You barely take two steps before the whole thing burns your hand, and you let go instinctively. The whole thing clatters to the ground, coffee spilling everywhere.  
  
Alphys is at your side practically at the same time it happens. “H-hey, don't worry about it, y-you can have m-mine, okay?” She pulls you back to the chair, your eyes still riveted to the pooling coffee on the ground. Helpfully she places her own mug in front of you, before grabbing a wad of paper towels to clean up your mess.  
  
Sans claps a bottle of ketchup to the table, taking a seat next to you – the only reason he ever raids the refrigerator. Still grinning like an idiot, like nothing happened at all, he uncaps the condiment and pours it into his coffee. Gross.  
  
“H-hey! You could help me, you know,” Alphys frowns, pausing momentarily from throwing paper towels.  
  
You stand, prepared to help her.  
  
Sans pulls you back down by the end of your shirt. “naw, she was talking to me. 'sides, you shouldn't be doing whatever someone asks, anyway. learn to make your own decisions, yeah?” He kicks back his feet on the table, taking a long sip of his ketchup coffee. “like right now, I don't really feel like doing anything, so i'm not.”  
  
“Oh my god. Sans.” Alphys manages to muster a glare.  
  
You think about what you want.  
  
You pick up the ketchup bottle, and tilt it into your drink. Gross.  
  
“OH MY GOD. SANS.” Her glare melts into horror at your actions. Sans is possibly amused. “What are you teaching it??”  
  
A frown momentarily flickers onto your face. Alphys always calls you 'it.'  
  
“ketchup makes everything better.” He pushes the bottle towards you. “here, keep it.”  
  
You pick it up, but you're still frowning. Sans will sometimes call you 'they', but can also be 'it', seemingly without a pattern. You don't like that.  
  
“i'm teaching it how to be a person.”  
  
Something inside you feels like it's going to break.  
  
If it bothers you that much, you should tell them.  
  
“...not it.” You mumble, barely audible.  
  
They both freeze. Staring at you. You've never talked with them, not ever. The only answer you ever gave was your name, when Sans had asked. Seconds tick by.  
  
“huh?” Sans finally breaks the silence, grin a bit strained.  
  
They probably didn't even hear you. You need to be louder.  
  
“...not 'it!'” You repeat, just a decibel loud enough to be heard.  
  
“ok, sorry buddy, you're right,” Sans has recovered quickly. Alphys still has her mouth open. “so, what should we call you then? he? she?”  
  
...His eyes are way too sharp on that question. Like for once, he's not being an idiot. He _knows_ that's a trick question.  
  
Because what I was, and what you are... they aren't the same.  
  
So whichever you answer... he'll know which one of us is in here. So you can't. You can't say he or she. So instead, you have to say...  
  
“...Us.”  
  
Ugh, no. They look confused. That's not what they should call us, that's what we call us. You shake your head.  
  
“They,” you correct.  
  
“they...” Sans look at you intently, as if he can see through your soul. It's like the time when he asked for your name. “like... multiple people?”  
  
...When did this idiot become so smart?  
  
“M-maybe they don't want to be construed to a single gender, Sans!” Alphys practically shouts, waving her hands frantically with paper towels.  
  
The tense moment is broken. Sans leans back and sighs; your gaze already elsewhere. For all her bluster, Alphys has a point, too. It's complicated. This way is best.  
  
“i gotta go work on my time machine a bit today, so might as well get it over with now,” Sans sighs, rising. “i'll be back in a bit.”  
  
The two of you are left alone. Alphys smiles patiently at you. “You've come a long way. The rest is like, in your mind, I think? Take today off and do what you want. You deserve it.”  
  
Do what you want...  
  
You stare blankly at her.  
  
Slowly you take your coffee, this time using the handle instead of the mug. You don't want it for yourself, but you know there is a mouse hole in the corner of the room. Perhaps the mouse would like a ketchup-infused coffee? It's not like you ever intended to drink the thing anyway. So you leave it by the hole. Then crouch, waiting for the mouse to come out and take your peace offering.  
  
Alphys's phone chirps. She fumbles with it, squinting at the line of text. “Oh, uh... sorry, I've got to run an errand real quick for the doctor.”  
  
Her smile becomes a bit more nervous. Taking out a blanket from a locker, she drapes it around your shoulders. Even though you're not cold. You're not quite sure what the point is, but it's supposed to be a nice gesture, you guess?  
  
She's biting her lip. “Um, be back soon. Don't get into trouble!”  
  
The door closes and she's gone. The coffee spill still hasn't been cleaned properly, and just has a bunch of paper towels thrown on top of it.  
  
You're left to your own devices. What a rare opportunity. You feel... something. Like today will be different. You're determined to make it so.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quota for happy chapters in this story has been filled. Seriously there's nothing left.


	6. Chapter 6

For the first time in a long time, you've been left in a room that isn't barred and locked. Although, if Alphys's words were any indication, she will be returning shortly. Gaster gave Sans a time limit before you get dragged back to that machine, and at best you have one day left.  
  
You unwrap the blanket around your shoulders, letting it fall in a crumpled heap next to the ketchup-infused coffee. There could be something in this room that might help you escape. You open all the lockers, not bothering to close them again. Just clothes. Then you check the drawers near the coffee machine. There's an assortment of pens, papers, tape, and food packages that don't seem to be organized any way in particular. A package of ramen won't do you much good. You still have the bottle of ketchup that Sans left you for useless condiments.  
  
Then you find the silverware drawer. Forks, spoons, and knives. Even the knives are just butter knives, not really anything that could be considered a weapon. But there is one exception – a kitchen knife of steel, most likely meant for cutting vegetables. The blade is a bit dull, but could do some serious damage if you were determined enough. Monsters have much weaker bodies than yours. They feel the world through magic and innate senses, rather than blood and nerves. So a strong intention to kill can transform mundane objects into powerful weapons.  
  
Hey, why are you closing the drawer? You never grabbed the knife. If you want to get out of here, you'll likely encounter resistance. Weapons can provide some serious motivation to people who wouldn't otherwise listen.  
  
“Words,” you mumble. If you were talking to anyone except yourself, no one would have heard you. “...Help.”  
  
Words? Words help? You've been spoiled by those two. The skeleton and lizard may have listened to you when you spoke... when you told them you didn't like being called 'it'... but words don't always work. Real people don't always do whatever they're told.  
  
Is that what this is about? You think that ignoring me makes you somehow more of a real person? Don't kid yourself. You'd be completely empty on the inside if not for me. Just a container for a soul. Hey, it's not like I consider myself to be a person anymore, either. But I've accepted it. I'm dead. In this case, two halves do not make a whole. The soul of a dead person can't make an empty doll come to life.  
  
Yet still, you won't take the knife. You honestly think that they'll listen to you if you say something. But you're wrong; that's not how the world works. When you get dragged off and hurt again, you'll have no one but yourself to blame.  
  
The drawer closes, knife still inside. At least you agree on one thing. This is an opportunity. To escape, or explore; either one is to your benefit. You leave the break room even though Alphys told you not to.  
  
You've come so far in just a few days. Honestly, you could probably pass as a normal human child, at least until you open your mouth to say something. But you don't drag your feet while you walk. Out of habit, your hand trails the wall, but you don't need it for support. Wandering. Looking. There's so many doors. You want to know what it's like 'outside.' I don't want to be stuck in a lab forever. I don't want to be stuck in _you_ forever. There has to be some puzzle piece we're missing.  
  
You open each door and peak inside with one eye. There's a lab, with microscopes, vials, and... tables with straps that look suspiciously like they're meant to contain people. You close that door. And open another. Another door. There's some kind of strange machine inside. It's half-hidden behind a curtain, but you still see it. It's like something straight up out of a sci-fi movie. Metal panels, steel, a gigantic clock-like dial. You spot a pair of sneakers and a form beneath it, like how a mechanic would tune up a car – fixing whatever's beneath that thing.  
  
Can't have that skeleton finding you yet. You close the door; he doesn't seem to notice, because there's not footsteps pounding after you. You turn around and nearly slam into the figure beneath you.  
  
Noir skeleton.  
  
How did you fail to hear him approach?  
  
His mouth is etched in a thin pencil-line. He doesn't look surprised to find you wandering the hall. “Where were you?” Gaster asks.  
  
Oh. He was _looking_ for you. That's definitely not good.  
  
Your tongue catches in your mouth. Immediately your mind flashes to my memories of the last time you and Gaster spent quality time together. Your legs, which had been so impressively strong and stable just moments before, tremble like a leaf.  
  
“Come,” he says. Grabbing your hand without your consent, starting to drag you away. Just like before.  
  
You lean your weight back. The heels of your rubber sneakers squeak loudly against the floor, your hand recoiling as you resist – weakly.  
  
He gives you a weird look. It's indiscernible. Annoyed? Surprised? Angry? Apathetic? Probably not apathetic.  
  
“No,” you utter pathetically, quieter than your shrieking shoes.  
  
He stops pulling. Watching you with that same weird expression.  
  
“No,” you insist, louder this time. Just a little. Your intonation is oddly deadpan despite the tightening in your chest.  
  
“It wasn't a question.” The moment he was considering you has already vanished. He pulls – actually pulls, this time. You're so much weaker. You trip immediately, and you're being dragged, again. Your little act can hardly even be considered resistance. Pitiful.  
  
You really should have brought that knife.  
  
He hauls you to a door, flinging it open.  
  
You remember it. You'd have a hard time _not_ remembering it. The same machine, with the same table meant to hold you, white-washed tiles and pain. This room only has pain. This time, you try to resist. Your hands reach up to Noir skeleton's hand, and you try to pry his fingers away from his wrist. Instead he just takes your other hand, lifting you by your wrists, even as you squirm like a dying animal. He claps the restraints on your wrists and you're trapped, already.  
  
“D-doctor Gaster?” You hear the familiar nervous voice. Barely, you can see the head of the yellow lizard. You even dare to hope that she's here to help you. “A-are you s-sure about this? If S-sans is right, th-th-then...”  
  
“It's _dangerous_ , Alphys,” Gaster's voice flickers with emotion for the first time, as he finishes securing your ankles. “It may have found a way to rewind time and we wouldn't even know it. Its determination _must be checked._ Now go ahead and I'll meet you in the observatory room momentarily.”  
  
She leaves instantly.  
  
Just like that.  
  
The person you thought cared about you...  
  
She doesn't really care, at all.   
  
Alphys cared when it was convenient. As soon as the tiniest bump appears, she abandons you to pain. You're not a 'person.' If she really believed that you were, why would she just abandon you? All that crap about taking responsibility, about how you shouldn't suffer and so on. A convenient lie. She's left you to a madman's devices. Even if you were about to die, she wouldn't step in. She's unwilling to suffer even a paper-cut on your behalf.  
  
And the other skeleton would fail you too, even if it's not the same way.  
  
Gaster approaches you with a syringe.  
  
It won't work. My memories might as well make you conscious for this ordeal.  
  
He sticks you with the needle.  
  
It's _not right_.  
  
Your consciousness fades.  
  
Today was supposed to be different. __  
  
What went wrong? Why is it the same? **  
  
**You might as well be living the same day over and over again.  
  
He called us dangerous. **  
  
**They're scared of you. And me, too. You haven't even done anything yet.  
  
I'm tired of your fear.  
  
G **ive them a reason to be scared of us.**  
  


* * *

  
You feel the warmth of a blanket wrapped around your body.  
  
When you open your eyes, you're crouched down by the mouse hole. The ketchup-infused coffee lays lazily at the entrance like a peace offering. Steam rises from the mug. Somewhere on the wall, a mechanical clock _tick tick ticks_. You're alone. Everything is set up like before you explored, and then stumbled into Gaster. Like time just unwinded itself. You shiver, and not because you're cold.  
  
What just happened? Was it a dream of the future?  
  
Or the future itself?  
  
You don't know either.  
  
...But this time, you're going to grab that knife.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can't be a person. But. You can bring them down to your level.
> 
> ^ Just a personal note I wrote for myself about the next chapter, been sitting lonely at the bottom of the page for a while now, thought I'd leave it in as a preview for ch7 of sorts.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story is a [prequel], this particular Sans can't glow blue and blow things up. Yet.

You extract yourself from the blanket coiled around your shoulders, and hurl it to the ground for good measure. You remember where it originally came from. Alphys sure hadn't shown you any compassion when you needed it the most. Coffee? A blanket? Those were within her comfort zone. But speaking against her boss was not. She didn't even try.  
  
You should hate that Noir skeleton. He brings nothing but pain. It's expected, and consistent, but it's still wrong. Life would be so much better for you, if only he didn't exist.  
  
The world has reset. This time, you will do it right. You already know where everything is; where everyone will be. The knife is right where you left it.  
  
You've been hurt plenty of times, but you've never thought of hurting someone before. It probably wouldn't have ever crossed your mind; not without me. So you'll need to follow my plan carefully if this is going to work.  
  
You leave the break room, again. This time with a kitchen knife in hand.  
  
You and I agree exactly on who needs to die first.  
  
Even if you don't know Gaster's exact location, you know where _not_ to look. So you loop back towards your own room; he'd been searching for you when you got caught, after all. The door to your prison is open – sure enough, complete with Noir skeleton.  
  
Casually you hide the knife behind your back, and approach.  
  
He steps out of your room, looking up and spotting you. “There you are.” His mouth is the thin line you remember from before. Nothing's wrong on his perspective. “Come.”  
  
You reach with your free hand, eager to accept his invitation. There's no shrieking shoes this time. No pointless words. _He_ will be the one lying on that table, writhing like a gutted fish.  
  
Obediently you follow; he doesn't even notice that your other hand is occupied. While he's messing with the door, you make your move.  
  
Your knife tears the black cloth on his side, barely scratching his bones.  
  
Whether the pain or surprise gets him, he lets you go like he's been shocked, stumbling away from you and into the room. For the first time, you clearly recognize the expression of his wide-eyed sockets... shock. He's staring at you.  
  
That 'attack' was pathetic.  
  
You still don't understand how to **hate**.  
  
You can't kill someone without such a simple desire. Weren't you paying attention to me earlier? Monsters are bound together by magic. It's the intention to kill that cleaves their soul in two. The power of hatred, the desire to erase their existence, overrides their will to live. Their souls submit to whichever will is stronger. If _I_ was the one attacking... well, we wouldn't be having this problem right now.  
  
The reins of your body are roughly shoved into my mind; your body lurches unnaturally as a result. It's like remembering a dream that I had previously forgotten. It had always existed, just outside of my conscious memory. Then the feeling was so clear, I wondered how I hadn't noticed before.  
  
I feel the heat beneath your fingertips, the steady rhythm of your heart, smell the coffee clung to your clothes. It's not like being in my body. It's like being pressed up against a stranger. It's like being pressed against the glass, with my mirror image distorted on the other side. I'm so close. So close to existing beyond a consciousness and soul. Yet still, there's some barrier. Just a thin line that's thick enough to remind me that I'm not.  
  
It had never occurred to me before that I could _be_ you. I had always just been _in_ you. But you handed me control. You... want this, even if you can't do it yourself.  
  
I look up, to Gaster.  
  
He's recoiled, taken a few steps back, nursing his side. There's no where to go in this room. I'm blocking the only entrance.  
  
I take a step forward. There's a small delay between my thought of action and your body responding. Like a puppeteer that lifts the strings of its marionette.  
  
Noir skeleton takes a step back. “Stop.”  
  
I'm grinning like a madman. I have a body. I'll take revenge. I'll _feel_ the knife ripping through his bones.  
  
Another step forward; he takes another back.  
  
“I said stop,” his voice wavers.  
  
Instinctively you want to, but I have too much control to even waver.  
  
“But why?” I test out your voice. It's unnatural. Doesn't sound right. But God, I can speak.  
  
He can't do anything to delay his death. I spring, the knife flashing quickly. Your body might be that of a child. But my determination to kill; that's true. My hate pierces, ripping through his bones like they're made of brittle calcium. Aiming at that white soul beneath them.  
  
He screams beautifully, crumpling to the ground; his very soul trembling. He'll disappear soon, but he's not positioned right. I grab his hand, like how he would take you, dragging him on the ground even as he cries. He's starting to disintegrate, powdery dust running through my palms, as I hurl him onto that damn metal table.  
  
The bones are all but gone, my initial dream of dragging it out ebbing quickly. Pain is such a great equalizer. You might not be able to be a real person, but you can bring everyone else down to your level. He's in so much pain right now I bet he couldn't even tell you his name.  
  
Gaster's clothes sag, losing the form that once kept them. My main regret is that monsters can't bleed like you. The beautiful red colors are hard to replace, even if his dust glimmers.  
  
You have an idea and I follow with my hands, taking out the bottle of ketchup that Sans had given you, and unscrewing its cap. “Ketchup makes everything better,” I say your words which you got from someone else.  
  
The bottle tilts to the dust-laden corpse, marring Noir skeleton's perfect black and white. It's messy, doesn't quite match in texture or color; graffiti on a work of timeless art. But his dust sticks out like sequins beneath the mess.  
  
I laugh, hysterically. It's so wrong. These two things don't match.  
  
But he's gone. I got revenge, and you don't have to be scared of him anymore. He doesn't exist.  
  
Now, for the others...  
  
The door bursts open. Probably a result of the rather loud death cry Gaster had made; someone has come. You expect Alphys.  
  
When I look up, it's the Sans skeleton. He's frozen in place, door wide open. Watching us, with the ketchup bottle still in my hand (a few drips dribbling out), over the dust of his dead brother. My smile fades. Our eyes lock.  
  
It's his fault that I'm trapped here.  
  
This limbo world between life and death, a purgatory that reminds me of everything I'm not.  
  
There's no apology, no hope for the future, no action he can take that will fix this.  
  
The ketchup bottle drops from my hand, clattering on the tile floor, shattering the painful silence. He flinches and breaks his gaze, his foot twitching slightly. Almost like he's about to run. He's always been scared of you, even if he said he's not. Because he's seen my potential within you.  
  
I take a step forward.  
  
Your presence presses against my mind, but you're the one on the outside now – you can't tell me what to do.  
  
His posture changes, takes a deep breath, and meets my gaze again. His eyes are more sure; stronger than just moments before. “ok, kid. you didn't like him. i get that. but he's family. just cuz you don't care, doesn't mean i don't.”  
  
Another step closer.  
  
“but murder? really? that's not how people solve problems. i don't know how you even reached that conclusion. thought you woulda been distressed in other ways first, maybe hit a few inanimate things, cry, uh, tell me or alphs, or, uh...”  
  
Still. Closer.  
  
He's sweating. “hey, put that knife down, ok? makes it, um, kind of hard to talk. you... remember who i am, right?”  
  
So close. Mere millimeters away.  
  
Your mind wraps itself around the reins of your body, but _I won't let go_. Why do even care? He's your captor too. But you think he's 'kind,' because he showed you basic human respect. That's not a choice; that's something that should exist innately. Sympathizing with your captors; they have a special term for your kind of sick mind: Stockholm Syndrome.  
  
You can't be a person. He's right. But. You can bring them down to your level. And pain is the greatest equalizer of all.  
  
“I remember.” I ignore your clawing mind, clutching the knife tighter. “It's your fault I'm not dead.”  
  
The knife rips through bone.  
  



	8. Chapter 8

We're back at this place again.  
  
Mouse hole. Steaming cup of coffee. The bottle of ketchup, still full and protruding awkwardly in your pocket. The blanket wrapped around your shivering shoulders.  
  
I'm back to being stuck behind the looking-glass to your body. What'd you do? You got scared that I wouldn't let go? Or you stopped having fun when the second skeleton died. It's the same thing. It's not like it's okay to kill one and not the other. They both caused pain. They both stuck me in this miserable situation.  
  
You're an idiot, coming back here when you _know_ what will happen if you don't kill Gaster. And you _can't_ kill Gaster, not without me. So where does that leave you? Victim or killer. Take your pick. It's not like I can feel pain.  
  
You throw the blanket onto the ground. You leave the room and don't take the knife.  
  
Whatever you think you can accomplish, you have precious few minutes before Gaster finds you and drags you off.  
  
You move without hesitation, pretending that you have some kind of plan. The first door you check is one you've been to in the past. It's the room with the strange machine, and the Sans skeleton. This time you step inside, closing the door behind you.  
  
Really? The last thing you saw was the knife breaking his bones, and your first instinct is to go find someone you murdered?  
  
He hasn't noticed you yet; he's too busy working under the insides of the machine. You try to wait, patiently, but you're not sure what your time limit is before Gaster finds you. Would Sans abandon you like Alphys? He might be convinced you're 'dangerous'. Well, you let him get murdered him in another lifetime, so it's not like you don't deserve it.  
  
You rap lightly on the side of the machine, the metal making a strange clank.  
  
Sans rolls out from beneath the device, his back on a skateboard. His eyes widen when he sees you waiting there. But, he's not on guard; doesn't look ready to initiate fight or flight. The events that happened moments ago, so fresh in your mind, have never happened in his perspective.  
  
“hey there.” He's just surprised that you've come here, alone, to see him. “uh, what's up? where'd alphs go?”  
  
You lock your hands behind your back, your mind not computing any words, as he stands and waits for you. Well, so now what? What are you going to say to him? 'Hello, I've recently been time traveling, and so far I've either died or killed you.' That'll go over great.   
  
The silence has stretched on for an uncomfortable time. Sans is smiling, but he's probably annoyed by you, since you interrupted his work for seemingly no reason.   
  
“i'll be done soon,” he promises, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “go back and i'll be right there before you know it, ok?”  
  
You're failing. If you're lucky and fast, you might have enough time to go back and grab that knife...  
  
You shake your head. “Help,” you utter. Just loud enough to hear. “...Please.”  
  
There's a thin line of sweat across his forehead. It's the second time you've ever spoken to him, and now you're asking for help. You're probably freaking him out.  
  
“help you? with what?” He's heard you, but he doesn't understand.   
  
Only a few seconds pass before a light flashes beneath his pockets, with a sharp chirp. He flips open his phone, reading the text message. His brow furrows even further.  
  
“...it's from doctor gaster. he... can't find you, was wondering if you're with me,” he looks up to you slowly.   
  
Your heart has started pounding, even if you remain expressionless. You're still wondering if he'll just leave you, like Alphys.  
  
“is this what you need help with?” His gaze looks through you critically, seeming to know. Previously, Gaster had said he knew that you might reverse time. If he knew that was a possibility, then Sans likely knows it too.  
  
You nod decisively. Leaving your fate in his hands. Indirectly admitting your time-travel, or at least incriminating yourself.  
  
“wow.” Sans takes a deep breath. “ok. let's go see him then, kid.” He moves to the door.  
  
You remain rooted to your spot. Because, just like Alphys, Sans will do whatever Gaster wants. He just admitted it. He's going to take you to him, because Gaster couldn't find you. He'll probably ask him to go easy on you something, but he's still taking you there first, instead of hiding you away.  
  
He's already at the door by the time he realizes you aren't following. He turns back to you. “uh, you ok? you coming?”  
  
Slowly, you shake your head. “No,” you whimper.   
  
“hey, whoa, you're not tearing up on me, are you?” He's back to being alarmed so quickly. “aw, geez, i - i mean, i can only guess what you're thinking. but my bro's not going to hurt you. i won't let him,” he promises, and you look up at that, daring to hope again. “but, we gotta talk to him. i'll handle the hard stuff, but you need to show him that you're a real person, too. i know you're scared, and i know he's hurt you, but he's not a bad person. trust me; he's my bro. sometimes people seem scary when you don't understand them... but as long as they feel even a hint of compassion, it means there's still good left in them.” He extends his boney hand towards you, as if offering an invitation. “ok?”  
  
You hesitate for a moment. You would prefer never to see Gaster again, if possible. But Sans has promised to be your voice. The real question... do you trust him more than me?   
  
It takes you a few seconds before you nod, accepting his invitation. He waits patiently for you and you accept his hand. It's hard to tell whether he's happy or not when he's always smiling.  
  
Well, you've made your choice. Whatever happens is your fault now.  
  
He leads you through the laboratory. You try not to wince as you near the cursed room where you last killed the two skeletons. You're not sure if you have any good memories of that place. Thankfully you two just pass it, and you're on a path you've never been on before, until you reach stairs. You're strong enough to take them yourself, but he holds onto you firmly... either to catch you if you slip, or to prevent you from escaping.  
  
The room has some kind of machine, like a super computer, in front. The far wall is pure glass. You recognize the room behind the glass – it's the one that Gaster likes taking you to. Where I first woke up. You're on the other side of the looking-glass this time: the observatory room. Gaster stands at the super computer. Your limbs stiffen; Sans squeezes your hand encouragingly, offering you a placating smile.  
  
Gaster is alive and well, like nothing ever happened. Because it didn't. The issue of repeating time he was so worried about... if not for that power, he'd be dead. He turns as the two of you approach, and you can tell. The calm facade you last cracked, he's still pretending it's there. He doesn't remember. You could do anything, and there's no consequence unless you want it to stick. You get to pick which reality stays, and which isn't worth it.  
  
Alphys is there, too. She's biting her claws. Maybe she was always here, even in the other timelines. That's why she appeared when you were being dragged to that machine. Maybe she even saw you murder Gaster, but was too scared to stop it herself, and got Sans to enter the room instead.  
  
“Sans,” Gaster breaks the silence first. “I know what you're thinking. But we picked up some strange determination wavelengths today. We need to know if the doll can reset time.”  
  
“why are you talking to me about it? you should ask them,” he nudges you. “you don't want to go back in that thing, right, buddy?”  
  
Your throat clenches, as you feel all their gazes upon you. But it's a yes or no question. You don't need to speak. Silently, you shake your head, but can't look at any of them.  
  
“It's dangerous, Sans,” Gaster disapproves. He's still talking to his brother, even at Sans's request to address you. He doesn't need to convince you. He just needs to get Sans to give up. “Human souls can persist after death. That human soul was absorbed by a monster. And when that monster died, the soul STILL did not disappear.”  
  
…  
  
“Its will made the soul practically immortal. Combined with a vessel originally intended to traverse time... we don't fully understand the results. In a worst case scenario, it's already manipulating time to create a reality that wouldn't normally exist.”  
  
I like this. It makes me sound like God.  
  
“then we shouldn't put them in a situation where they want to change reality,” Sans still tries to argue, on your behalf. “the harder you push, doc... you're just going to break something, eventually.”  
  
“We have to have some way of knowing if they've messed with time,” Gaster says curtly. Neither seems willing to give up or even listen.  
  
“there's one other way. a theory that you were talking about a few days back. the possibility that a monster's soul could act as a vessel for time travel, with enough injected determination. ”   
  
For the first time, Gaster doesn't have an immediate response. The silence feels strange. You're not sure you understand all their technical talk.  
  
“That's an untested theory,” Gaster finally says. “Monster souls don't have the same durability as a human's. It might work if it survived, but the odds of the monster's soul disintegrating under the pressure...”   
  
“yeah, but if it doesn't, it should retain the same or similar properties, right?”   
  
“S-Sans, what are you saying?!” Alphys blurts out, unable to continue her silence.  
  
Sans sighs. “i'm saying you just need a volunteer. i'm volunteering.”  
  
“You'll turn into dust!” Alphys is so upset she doesn't even stammer.  
  
You might not understand everything. But you know that Sans just offered to risk his life. It surprises you, too. It's such the opposite of Alphys. Does he really care about you that much? When no one else seems to think you're alive?  
  
“Absolutely not,” Gaster refuses instantly. He was so quick to offer you up, that you expected him to consider Sans's idea. But he doesn't. “The risk is far too great.”  
  
“hehe, they're risking their life every time they're in that thing, doc. why should we expect them to do that, when we won't do the same?”  
  
“It's not the same!” Gaster's boney fist clenches. He's actually upset. “It's not _alive,_ Sans. You are.”  
  
“c'mon, doc,” Sans shrugs. “you and i both know this needed to be tested eventually. now just seems like the best time to do it. and who else would willingly walk into such a test, huh? it's not like there'll be more methods that make it safer over time.”  
  
“We don't know that,” Gaster grumbles. He turns away, facing the glass paned wall. “...Alphys, go help Sans set everything up in there. If he wants to do it so badly, I won't refuse.”  
  
“Wh-what?!” Alphys jumps. “B-but-”  
  
“DO IT,” Gaster cuts her off, and she scurries out of the room so fast that she nearly trips.  
  
You stare at Sans. He's really going to do this. He's going to risk his life, and his coworkers are willing to do it. What kind of messed up place is this? What did you do to deserve this; to deserve his kindness? There's something wrong with all of them.  
  
“it'll be ok,” he promises you, still smiling. He never stops smiling, even when you think he's not okay. He wraps his arms around you in an embrace. You don't understand; your arms limp beside you. “just remember... someone out there really cares for you.”   
  
He finally releases you. Gaster still has his back to you. “thanks, bro,” Sans says. And then he's gone, following in Alphys's footsteps.  
  
It's only when he's gone that Gaster turns back to you. He puts his hand on your shoulder, so tall that he nearly has to bend over to do so. “You must like my brother a lot. It's not hard to guess that you time traveled and asked him to help. And now, he's risking his life for you.” he whispers. It sounds like an accusation instead of something touching. His hand tightens around your shoulder. “Remember that. Because if something goes wrong... I'm counting on you.”  
  
He glares into your soulless gaze as if he can summon my soul to the surface. You don't answer. He turns back to the glass.  
  
Alphys is running out of the room below. You can't hear the whirring of the machine, not from this room, as you watch it descend. Only a pair of sneakers are visible by the time it's completely gone down. Sans has taken your place.  
  
Alphys returns to you and Gaster in just a few seconds. “O-okay. It's set,” she's breathing heavily, from nerves or from running up a flight of stairs, or both.   
  
“Do it.”  
  
You can't tell anything at first. You're watching a silent movie, a skull-like machine throbbing faintly.   
  
...Then you notice your ketchup bottle has escaped from your pocket. It floats up slowly, as if somehow attracted to the ceiling. Your body starts to feel lighter; your hair literally stands up on its ends.  
  
“Alphys?” Gaster turns to the lizard, as if in slow-motion. Your silent film has turned into an astronaut movie. Gravity refuses to listen, pulling at your legs, trying to remove you from the floor...  
  
“Um, th-these r-readings, I don't-”  
  
“TURN IT OFF!” Gaster screams.  
  
Alphys slams her fist against the computer.  
  
Instantly gravity stops. The ketchup bottle falls to the ground, clattering from the abrupt fall, cracking and leaking ketchup. You fall on your side; the other two as well. Except Gaster has found his feet immediately. He's already running down the stairs.  
  
“Sans!” He shouts.  
  
It's going wrong.  
  
On your side, you can still see through the glass window. You can still see a pair of sneakers beneath that machine.  
  
He's dead.  
  
You're certain of it.  
  
Time has something against him.  
  
No matter which timeline you visit, he's going to die. It's history and the future. Even if you go back, he'll probably just die again.   
  
Gaster has reached the room. He's struggling with the machine, actually trying to pry it with his bare hands; completely forgetting how his own device works.  
  
If that thing goes up and there's just a pile of dust...  
  
You don't think you could take it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, took a little longer than normal (and on a cliffhanger), hope you enjoy this longer chapter (for me) as payment! I might be slowing down a bit in the future, not that I exactly had a consistent schedule.


	9. Chapter 9

The world is on a never-ending repeat.

We're back at this place again.

The mouse hole. The coffee. The ketchup, still in your pocket, without a crack. You clutch the blanket around you tightly, the one Alphys gave you a lifetime ago. 

It was too much. You didn't want to know. If that machine lifted up and there was nothing left of Sans except dust... it would be worse than never knowing. A reality where Sans took your place in that cursed machine... you didn't want that.

How many times? How many times have we been at this same spot? This is the fourth. The first time, you were the victim. The second, you became the assailant. The third, Sans was sacrificed. What is there even left to try? You need to pick one. Stop redoing time; because doing the same thing over and over again is crazy. Pick which one becomes the true timeline. Pick up the knife.

You shake your head. Your knuckles have become white, gripping the blanket so tightly. You run out of the break room, even though you know what you'll find. It's the same hallway, you only have limited time before Gaster finds you, you're all alone-

A door some distance down bursts open. You remember that's where you first found Sans, working on the time machine. Well. It's Sans, you think. His form looks familiar. But he's covered in what looks like a grainy blue flame. You can't see his eyes; they're just black sockets.

Your breath hitches. There's an immense pressure upon your chest, and you think it's because your heart is pounding. The ketchup bottle begins to slide away from your pocket. No, it's not because of your pounding heart. Something is affecting the world. 

Whatever happened in that last timeline. Going back didn't fix it.

You were just starting to understand the rules; to know what to expect. Now this. Now the world's breaking them. 

The moment ends. The blue flame extinguishes. The pressure subsides immediately, the ketchup slipping back in your pocket comfortably. Sans is still there, panting. But otherwise, it's like nothing ever happened. He's watching you, and you're completely frozen in place, not daring to move a single muscle, lest the blue flame returns.

“kid. you ok?”

Are you okay? You're not the one who was just enveloped in a blue flame, or just had some weird residual effect from time travel. Whatever messed him up in the last timeline wasn't fixed. You're still frozen in place, barely daring to breathe.

“you look like you've seen a skeleton, or something,” he laughs at his own joke. It's not funny. “didn't mean to scare you. just thought i saw like, four of you, or something. must've been a trick of the light.”

Four of you? Like four repeats of time? You wonder if this Sans is the same one you left behind in time moments ago; if he can remember himself on death's doorstep. It feels like he's waiting for you to do something, or say something, but you can't. Where could you possibly start?

“um, where'd alphs go?” He asks the same as before, looking around the hallway. The question seems irrelevant considering the last timeline's consequences. 

Alphys isn't here. But someone else is walking down the hallway. You've spent too much time goofing off already; your time limit is up. Noir skeleton has come for you.

“Where were you,” he chastises, the same intonation and expression from another time line ago. That was then. Now... Sans is here. Gaster's gaze inevitably drifts to his brother. “I suppose that question hardly needs answering. Sans, I know what you're thinking. But we picked up some strange determination wavelengths today. We need to know if the doll can reset time.”

Sans has already moved next to you protectively, one hand on your shoulder. “i still have a day left to figure things out.” You haven't even asked him for help yet, but he already wants to protect you. “uh, i think? it hasn't been a week yet, right?” He scratches his skull.

“There was no real 'time limit' anyway. It's dangerous, Sans. In a worst case scenario, it's already manipulating time to create a reality that wouldn't normally exist.”

“but if it's really alive, then-”

“It's not alive, it's a doll.”

“then the actions they take, the emotions they show-”

“-Are nothing more than a residual effect of its displaced soul!” Gaster practically shouts, his calm facade ruined. “These random outbursts of self-independence, pain or joy, these individual traits you pick out as being representative of a 'person' are woefully incomplete! If this thing was truly alive, it would remember and react to more than just pain; it would remember the good as well as the bad. What you see is nothing more than the after tremors of the former soul's emotions.”

Sans looks momentarily taken aback. The argument he'd had so carefully prepared, his plan to offer himself as a sacrifice... You think that it hinges upon you being a person. If you are not a person, then you are nothing. An artificial creation. An empty container to house a displaced soul.

“b-but, even so...” He starts, still trying to defend you. Still wanting to believe in you. You already know that he's trying too hard.

You grab the edge of his shirt, tugging lightly. You take his attention from Gaster, to you. You can't make your face form the proper emotion, because you're not sure what you feel to begin with. But, you don't want him to die again. Even if something is different this time around... you don't want to risk him dying.

“It'll be okay,” you tell him, with a smile. Because those are the words he told you when you needed help, because that is the face he made for you when he took your place.

Both of the skeleton brothers are watching you. You know that Gaster is depending on you too... even if he doesn't remember. He wanted you to take care of his brother. Even if the two of you don't like each other... you have Sans in common.

You stop hiding next to Sans, and walk up to Gaster. Noir skeleton is so tall, you're not even half his height. So you have to stretch, to offer your hand, knowing that he wants to take it... knowing where he wants to lead you.

But you don't understand... when you're the one to initiate it like this, it makes it look more like an invitation, or that you're accepting a deal. Maybe that's what this really is. You've accepted this fate. In the end, the one you ran away from the most... it's the one you choose to live.

“frisk...” Sans actually uses your name. That is your name, isn't it? “he didn't even say you needed to leave. you don't need to do this if you don't want to.”

You want to, though. If it means saving Sans.

Gaster takes your hand. You think that he should be happy, but he's frowning. “It's not dangerous,” he promises. “You're not going to die.”

You can't remember if he's ever talked to you before. He's told you to do things, but he isn't telling you what to do now.

You nod. Holding his hand, you follow him. He walks slower this time. You're not being dragged by your feet. Sans walks a few paces behind too, refusing to leave you, even if this is your choice.

You reach the cursed door and room, but you're not scared this time. You chose to be here. The skull-shaped machine waits patiently for your return. Sans gently removes the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, and the bottle of ketchup protruding awkwardly from your pocket. Not like you need those anymore.

“i'm sorry,” he tells you, because he's failed. You're back here again. Nothing has changed.

You think everything has changed. You're still smiling as you lay on the table, Gaster helping you through the steps. You're injected with something.

You see the machine falling down upon you, as your consciousness slips. This time, you refuse to go alone. This time, you're taking me too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're out of the time loop for real this time. And I am excited to write the next chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

You used to think that dying was pretty cool.

Old age or giving up on life was different. Those didn't count. You liked it when it was the culmination of one's entire existence. When everything in life had held a purpose; when everything came together to a perfect ending. You liked the story of the hero who sacrificed everything, even their life. It was your favorite movie, not that there were many choices in the Underground.

You and your brother Asriel watched it every Friday. It wasn't like you had many choices on a movie-night, and it was one of the few things you both liked. Actually there were only a few parts you liked, mainly the dramatic parts and especially the end; the rest was pretty boring. So you started watching it upside down with your head hanging on your bed, because sometimes you saw different shapes and colors that way, while you munched on some popcorn.

Asriel would hold onto the blanket for dear life the whole movie, sometimes even mouthing the motivational speeches minor characters gave to the hero. Whenever the end came though, he'd always toss the blanket over his head, and refuse to watch.

“We've seen this like, ten times already,” you rolled your eyes and flipped right-side up. Muffled sounds came from beneath the blanket.

This was the best part – where the hero cut down everyone he loved, in order to protect the world. There was blood and guts and blood everywhere, like ketchup and it didn't even look real. It looked more like a work of art. Eventually the badass hero was cut down, and he gasped a few dying words, before the credits started to roll.

“You can look now,” you told Asriel, and he peaked his head over the blanket. Tears had matted the fur by his eyes. “C'mon, big kids don't cry.”

He was crying. You didn't feel bad about it.

There were tears streaming out of his eyes. There was blood too. It was gross. Blood was seeping out of his nose, and had gotten matted across his fur. It wasn't anything like the movie. There was nothing beautiful about this.

He was crying. You felt kind of bad about it.

You'd both been playing with sticks and you were the 'hero'. You bopped him when he wasn't expecting it. The stick dropped from your hands. “Are you okay?”

His face had scrunched together as if concentrating, or holding back pain. “Y-yeah...” He sniffled back tears, and you knew he was trying to be brave for you. You’d gotten a bit overzealous when pretending to be the hero. Your brother hated being the villain but you’d always insist until he gave in eventually. His heart wasn’t in the role.   
  
You handed him your handkerchief and waited with him until the blood finally stopped flowing.  “Sorry,” he apologized.  
  
“Why?” You were the one who hit him. You should be the one apologizing.  
  
“For ruining your handkerchief.”  
  
“Oh.” You wanted to tell him that you were the one that was sorry, but you didn’t for some reason. He thought you were strong. You wanted to be strong. Apologizing was admitting to the person that you’d been weak.  
  
You were both in the kitchen, trying to make heads or tails of the recipe. It was written in cursive, which might as well have been a different language. He needed a stool to reach the counter, but you were tall enough. Pretty much all the ingredients had been gathered and tossed into a bowl, and you mixed it furiously because you were determined to make it the best pie ever.  
  
“Sorry,” he apologized. Not exactly new for him; he’s always apologizing. But one key ingredient, he couldn’t seem to read it off the list.  
  
“Give that to me.” You stopped your furious mixing and snatched the paper from his hands. You squinted, barely able to make the word’s form. “Buttercups.” You succeeded.  
  
“Buttercups?” Asriel repeated, frowning. “Are you sure that’s right?”  
  
“Yeah, like the flower.” You didn’t actually know, you just thought that’s what it had to be. What other buttercups were there? He frowned; didn’t look very convinced. “Go get it!”  
  
Buttercups. That wasn’t right.  
  
The flower was poisonous. Who knew. It wasn’t like you were trying to kill your surrogate father. He’d eaten an entire piece happily, far too kind to tell you and Asriel that it tasted funny. Mom pulled you and your brother aside; asked what in the world you two had done. She thought it’d been some kind of cruel joke.  
  
Halfway through her rant, Asriel started bawling. You told her that it was your idea and had been your fault. The recipe called for buttercups so you thought it was the flower. She let both of you go to your room after that. No supper, but the yelling had stopped when she realized it was an accident.  
  
Asriel wrapped himself in his blanket, and started to cry again.  
  
“Stop it,” you told him, because him crying made you feel worse somehow.  
  
“Don’t you feel bad though? Dad - he - he could’ve died.” He sniffled.  
  
You just laughed. “But he didn’t. It’s fine.” Your brother didn’t answer.  
  
You felt really bad. Your stomach was twisted in all kinds of knots, and your heart wouldn’t stop pounding. It felt like you were going to throw up. You flipped the light off and neither of you were in the mood for much more conversation. Asriel kept on crying, eventually dying out into a few sniffles, until at last it ceased. All you could hear was the steady breathing; all you could see was the rise and fall of his blanket.  
  
You snuck out of your bed. You were an expert and knew just how to turn the doorknob, so that it would fit neatly in place without the extra sound of that ‘click.’ You hurried to the bathroom.  
  
You threw up.  
  
And up. And up. And up.  
  
Oh God, you couldn’t stop.  
  
Dying was nothing like the movies. It was supposed to be like a thunderclap; loud, beautiful, with a meaningful impact. Also fast. Dying was extremely slow, and painful. You thought if you were suffering to save someone else, it would have been worth it.  
  
But that wasn’t true.

There was nothing cool about dying.  
  
And it sure as hell wasn’t pretty.  
  
You hadn’t eaten in days and could no longer hold down even a sip of water. Whenever you tried, your stomach reacted violently. There was nothing left for you to throw up, but somehow your body still managed - a green kind of liquid you never knew existed inside you. You were so sick that even resting didn’t work right; laying down just upset your stomach further. So you were left in this kind of half-limbo world of awake-not awake, your eyes constantly half closed as you just focused on your breathing to lessen the pain.  
  
At first, Mom had hovered around you at every passing moment. You begged her to leave you alone. You hated the way she looked at you; you couldn’t help but think you were comparable to a dying dog. Your brother was the opposite. He hated visiting you, probably because you always asked him to bring more poison. So you told him to come see you more. He tried to talk you out of your plan on more than one occasion. It was like he was being strategic about it too, because he always seemed to argue when you were at your worst.  
  
Like when you were sitting there waiting to throw up for the tenth time that day.  
  
“I don't like this,” he'd whimper. There was always something in his hands that he'd play with, as he watched you lean your head against the cool wall. This time he had that stupid camera. You prayed to God that it wasn't on, or didn't turn on, with the way he was fiddling with the lens and practically every button. “Isn't there another way? Let's stop, Chara!”  
  
“Don't doubt me,” your voice was so dry. “We... we have to be strong. We'll save everyone.”  
  
“You're already strong,” he sniffled, tears welling in his eyes. “I... I'm scared. But if you think it'll work, if we can break the barrier and save everyone, then... I... I...”  
  
“Stop crying. Go get more flowers,” you winced; you wanted him gone. Not because he was crying, even though you couldn't say that.  
  
But because as soon as he left, you started to cry, too. The tears streamed down your face and your chest heaved violently, your body feeling weak and your mind faint. This was what a hero did, right? This is what made life worthwhile, right?  
  
Your life was meaningless. You could continue to eke out an existence, but there didn't seem to be much point. You weren't a good person. You couldn't live the life of a hero, of someone who was always patient and kind and good.  
  
But you could die a hero.  
  
You could die and save so many people.  
  
It was the only way to ensure the rest of your life had ever held a purpose.  
  


* * *

  
When you open your eyes, you're back in your 'room.' Your hands are folded neatly upon your chest. Gaster must have finished whatever it was he does, and left you here, alone. You don't remember what happened, and probably as some kind of coping mechanism, your mind had wandered into my memories that you decided to augment with made-up content.  
  
“But that's what happened,” you say quietly to me. “So what do you remember?”  
  
I remember my brother crying all the time, him being obnoxious, and myself getting sick. I remember doing all the things you saw. But you inserted your own emotions and thoughts into my memories, like setting yourself as the main character in someone else's story.  
  
“...Why don't you remember anything good?”  
  
There isn't anything good to remember. It's my soul and my memories; you can't just make stuff up.  
  
“But it's not your soul. It's mine.”  
  
Excuse me? If it's not my soul, what the hell do you think I am? Some kind of imaginary friend?  
  
“Rez-idual effect of a displaced soul. A tremor.”  
  
…  
  
You did not.  
  
You did _not_ just quote _Gaster_ , of all things, did you? You can't even say that word right.  
  
 **What's wrong with you?** **You think that I don't exist? I'm some kind of figment of your imagination?  
  
** You're the doll here. You're the one who doesn't have the capability to make your own decisions! You don't know how to do anything by yourself! You're just a copycat; you _wouldn't have even given yourself_ up if Sans hadn't done it first for you.  
  
That greasy short skeleton? **Don't even get me started.**  
  
You listen to him like you're some kind of freaky pet, absorbing everything he does and says even when it doesn't make any logical sense. You don't even understand half of what he's trying to say or _you wouldn't have poured ketchup all over Gaster's dust.  
  
_ **Why do you listen to him and not me? What makes you think his way is better?  
  
** You're a damn doll, an artificial human that lacks the capability of judgment and most definitely lacks any capacity for morals.  
  
The only reason I've been patient with you is because we're stuck in the same miserable situation. That working together would be more productive.  
  
 **It doesn't have to be that way. We don't have to be 'friends.'**  
  
You don't understand that _I can make your life hell_.  
  
You gave me your body once and you couldn't take it back. Just because I'm stuck on this side of the looking-glass doesn't mean I can't shove you back here and take control. I haven't forgotten what it feels like to be you and now that I know it's possible, I'll make it real.   
  
_You'll mess up one day and I'll be right here.  
  
_ You're holding your hands to your ears _but it doesn't matter_ , you'll always hear me because I'm not some stupid imaginary friend or a convenient science effect to make yourself feel better.  
  
This is my soul to keep. Not yours.  
  
 **Don't ever forget.**

 


	11. Chapter 11

You roll over and curl into a ball, refusing to get up from the bed. Then you lie there, completely immobile. If this is your idea of sulking, it would be more convincing if I was trying to get you to do something. But I'm not. Stay here forever, for all I care.

Seconds turn to minutes; minutes turn to hours. Just kidding. Your resilience barely lasts a few minutes. When the door opens, you immediately sit up. It's your favorite greasy-fingered skeleton.

“hey...” He's never lost his grin, even after leaving you with Gaster. “i just came to see how you were holding up. and maybe talk about a few things.” He says it while not looking directly at you, which probably means he's there more to talk about 'things' more than see how you're doing.

He pulls up a chair to your bedside. Might be a long talk.

You never let him start. Your eyes mist over before he's even properly sat down. Something about his presence just sets you off. Tears roll down your cheeks, a garbled noise escaping your throat. Your tiny little fists clasp onto the hem of his jacket, as you pull yourself closer, burying your head into his chest.

You want to forget that I'm here. You want to pretend that only what you touch is real. You want to pretend you never killed him, that you never saw him die, and that all your time-traveling foolishness was nothing more than a bad dream.

Honestly, I'm surprised you can even cry. Never knew you could mimic humanity's defects. Your reaction to grab him is innate; instinctual, really. Like any creature, you don't want to feel pain. You just want to be comforted, so you grab onto him with the intention of never letting go.

He doesn't know what to do, clearly. There's a haunted look beneath those eye sockets, something equal between fear and guilt. You're an artificial human crying into his chest, after all. He probably never knew you could cry, either. Even so, he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as the noise in your mouth becomes full-on yowling. Snot runs down your nose, but he presses you into him anyway, and you're ruining his jacket.

The best part is that he probably thinks it's all his fault. He failed in his promise to protect you. You volunteered yourself to Gaster, and Sans could only offer a pitiful apology. Then you wake up, crying. It'd be only natural for him to blame himself.

You could tell him otherwise. You could tell him about your imaginary friend, who keeps telling you to pick up the knife. That you've already seen and felt his dust, in another timeline. What happens then, huh? You're still his creation. He'll put you down like a rabid dog.

“uh, we can talk some other time,” he tells you.

You decide not to tell him anything either.

Finally your tears start to slow down. You pull back, because you're ruining his jacket. Sans still looks concerned. He hands you a crumpled-up napkin. You stare at it without expression or understanding. After a few seconds tick by, he wipes your face clean.

His pocket glows. He flips out his phone quickly, eyes scanning the screen. “i have to do something,” he growls, and seems almost angry.

Your hand grips the clothe of his jacket even tighter. You don't want to be stuck here with just me.

He flinches. “you can, uh, come too.”

* * *

You've managed to calm yourself enough that it looks like you never cried at all, and it helps that Sans holds onto your hand. He leads you to a vaguely familiar science-y room, one that you had previously stumbled upon in your earlier time-traveling adventures.

Alphys waits there. A potted plant sits upon the counter. There's a strange golden flower, like the ones from the surface world. Like the ones from my village. It seems oddly out of place in this lab of test tubes and tiles. The whole thing is encased carefully behind walls of glass.

Alphys is absolutely beaming as the two of you enter. “I-I told you I'd do it. A vessel that can harness soul energy – one step closer to breaking the barrier that traps us... a-and so you don't have to get hurt anymore.”

She's a bit late on that and sounds oddly proud about it. You already gave up and went with Noir skeleton's tests.

You stare curiously at the flower. The petals are much more vibrant than that fake plant in your cell. But outside of that, it's just a normal flower. Beneath that glass, it doesn't even give off any scent.

“alphs...” Sans rubs his head, his smile noticeably forced. “we... really gotta talk.”

“A-about this flower?” Alphys blinks.

“no. well, kind of...”

“Wh-what about, then?”

Sans's gaze falls critically on you. Innocently you match his gaze. Gently he pushes you forward towards the flower. “hey, keep an eye on this, would you? we're gonna step outside and chat for a bit.”

“Wh-what? S-sounds s-s-serious...” Any of Alphys's previous joy has already evaporated. The two leave together to have a private conversation, leaving you with your nose very close to the glass box. When the door closes, you can still hear faint sounds of their voices, so they haven't gone very far for their private chat.

…

You know, when they act like that. They're definitely talking about you. It's the only reason why they wouldn't want to talk in front of you. Sans still thinks you're at a level that you'll do whatever he'll tell you. But that's not really true anymore, is it. You've had quite the little journey through time that he doesn't know about, and you've become a rebellious little thing, haven't you.

You leave the golden flower and carefully creep towards the lab door. Silently you press your ear against the metal. Actually, it'd probably be better to cup your hand so that it amplifies the sound. You try it out and are surprised that it works; you can hear their voices much better. Well, why wouldn't I want to know what they're saying about us?

“...h-has to be a mistake.” You can hear Alphys. “Or, m-maybe Gaster's exaggerating.”

“nope. i saw the readings, too. everything down to the soul's core is completely inverted.”

“I-I mean... what does that mean?”

He chuckles. “dunno. if a monster's soul composition defines its love, mercy, and compassion, then the opposite of that would be...?”

“It's a human soul. It might work differently,” she sounds unusually sure of her defense in you. “It could just mean that the soul is in pain, not that they're incapable of feeling anything good.”

“ok. maybe. but their determination levels are still wild, and it sure looks like something's not right in the time continuum. tif they've been time traveling, it's not like anyone told them too, right? so they're making decisions based on something.”

“Th-they're becoming more than just automated... I understand, it's like they're becoming a person...”

“no, you don't get it, cuz if you did... you'd be a whole lot of worried about your potted plant.”

“There's no soul part of th-that equation, it's c-completely different.”

...You hear a strange sound behind you. Like something tapping on glass. But... no one else was in the room. Slowly you turn around.

“Mom? Dad?” A muffled voice cries out. “Somebody... help!”

The voice is way too familiar, even when distorted. One that I would never forget. That honey-petaled flower...

You turn and rush back to the flower. It's not the same as when you left it. Somehow it's grown a face. More than a face... liquid gushes from its eyes. Even in this form, he's still a crybaby. You lift the glass casing around the sobbing flower. He makes a sniffling noise, although he has no nose. He meets your gaze hopefully.

“You... Do I know you?” The flower wonders between tears.

Your body isn't mine. But somehow, he still is on the verge of recognizing me. Perhaps it's the same reason I was so sure the voice could only belong to him.

The last time were together, we were...

Your hands clench, the glass crackling uncertainly beneath your fingers. Your face breaks into a smile, showcasing all your teeth.

“Hello, Asriel. It's me, Chara.”


	12. Chapter 12

You were supposed to be a hero.  
  
You were going to break the barrier and save everyone. You certainly had the strength; so much that it bordered on godhood. Although your body had perished, the essence of your being – your soul – had lived on. Entrusted with your brother, your human soul and his monster form had combined into unfathomable power.  
  
Wasn't that what defined god? Something that formed reality according to its will, something that even death had no power over?  
  
There was only one thing that held you back. You had to share this power equally with your brother.  
  
 _He was too scared to become something greater than mortal._  
  
So why... how was that after coming this far, he refused to take the next step? All you needed was six human souls. Just six! The humans had even attacked you first. Humans were stupid creatures, always quick to jump to the worst possible conclusion. They were the ones who had attacked first. You needed their deaths to save all the monsters.  
  
Asriel struggled, his body covered in blood. Your physical form was already a corpse, gripped tightly in his hands. Still, he refused to let you go, because he had some silly notion that you needed a proper burial. He also refused to lift his hands against the rampaging humans. He was going to die at this rate. And if he died, the soul that was you within him would inevitably die too.  
  
 _FIGHT. FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT-_  
  
Your whole life, you had wanted to die a hero.  
  
You could die and save so many people.  
  
It was supposed to ensure that the rest of your life had ever held a purpose.  
  
You were already dead. So to be denied this one act... to have your sacrifice thrown away at the last possible moment, when you could no longer go back...  
  
Don't do this, you begged within his mind.  
  
If you couldn't be a hero, _no one deserves that chance._ If you couldn't get the death you desired, _why should anyone else?_  
  
 _They should all just DIE, worthless, meaningless deaths!_  
  
You were used to betrayal. But you'd thought that Asriel had meant something to you. You thought you'd meant something to him. You were siblings and best friends. But now he was just in the way; he was the reason you couldn't be a hero...  
  
 _You're USELESS. You're getting in the way of everything we planned!_  
  
“I'm sorry,” he said, tears streaming down his face. “Please don't hate me forever for this.”   
  
_I'll hate you forever!_  
  
He gasped. A hole had appeared in his chest. Blood dripped everywhere. He staggered back to the barrier, barely managing to make it to the golden flower bed, before collapsing...  
 _  
It's YOUR FAULT that it's ending this way!  
Don't die here! I shouldn't die for your mistakes!  
I'll hate you forever!  
  
_“I'm sorry,” he repeated. “I'm... sorry...”  
  
“I'm... s...o...r...”  
  
Garbled air escapes his mouth. My fist has wrapped around his stem, squeezing as hard as humanly possible. Can plants breath? His eyes bulge with strangled noises still escaping his mouth. That's fine, it doesn't matter if he can breathe or not, _I'll rip his head off instead.  
  
_ “Ch...ah........” He tries to form the sounds into a word, but fails. The pressure builds until it _cracks_ , the glass casing in my other hand breaking in half.   
  
The door opens so suddenly that it _bangs_ against the other side of the wall. Hands roughly grab my shoulders, and I'm pulled back in more ways than one. The physical force nearly sends me to the floor; would have if I hadn't hit the wall instead. My breath hitches and my mind snaps from a trance born of the past; you take it as a sign of weakness and throw me back behind the looking-glass of your body.  
  
Sans has an amazing talent of looking really pissed off even while smiling. You're pinned down by his strong hands that definitely won't let you go, no matter what, even though you haven't tried to struggle. Look how brave he is when you're not holding a knife.  
  
Alphys has taken point by the flower, who's half choking and half sobbing. “Th-there, there...” She hesitantly pets his the petals on his head, but is clearly at a loss on what to do. Her claws are shaking and she's biting her lip.  
  
“whoa. where do we even start with the questions,” he half glares between you and Asriel.  
  
“H-how about... are you okay?” Alphys smiles faintly at the flower.  
  
Asriel sniffles and manages to stem some of the tears. He bobs his head weakly. “I can't... feel my legs... or arms...”  
  
A few seconds tick by.  
  
“alphs. why is the flower talking? i thought you said there wasn't any soul involved in this.”  
  
“U-um, I-I, u-um...” She's lost any sort of coherency.  
  
“you're a flower, buddy. flowers don't have legs or arms,” he says, and the flower's eyes go wide again. “and that's kind of, heh, a weird thing for a flower to ask, ya know? especially for first words. so, does that mean you weren't always a flower?”   
  
_Dammit_ , the more they learn about Asriel, the more likely they are to learn about me. _He's going to ruin_ _everything_. _They can't find out that I'm still here!_  
  
If only I could wrap my fingers around his neck one more time, _if I had just finished the job in the first place-!_  
  
Your body lurches, momentarily blinded by my desire. Sans slams you back into the wall so hard that you hit your head, stars momentarily blossoming in your vision. You flinch and would recoil, if you had anywhere left to go.  
  
“ok. what's going on?!” Sans is a decibel away from a scream.  
  
Asriel hiccups, tears starting to form in his eyes again. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Sans's screaming has probably only heightened his fear.  
  
Sans watches for a moment, before turning his glare at you. “look, if this kid is bothering you, we won't let it happen again. you're safe. don't worry about them, ok?”   
  
“Bothering me?” Asriel's voice is freakishly high-pitched. “No way. We're friends. R-right? We're great friends!” He's not even speaking to them; he's looking at you for confirmation.  
  
 _Please don't hate me forever,_ were his last words.  
  
You try to smile encouragingly and nod vigorously. You're such a sucker. He doesn't deserve to feel mercy even for a second. Asriel smiles back nervously. Sans's grip remains tight on you; his glare even harsher. Yeah, there's no way he took that as sincere.  
  
“ok, well, so are you gonna tell us-”  
  
“Sans, s-stop,” Alphys interrupts. “We don't need to treat this like an interrogation. Look, can't you see he's scared?”  
  
Sans's smile remains grim. But he's back to staring at you. “I get the feeling you're hiding something from us,” he says, his eye sockets completely black. “If it was just from fear? I might get it. But you wouldn't be willing to strangle a flower to hide the truth if you were really such a blank slate, would you. The doc's already reviewing footage since you woke up. If you haven't made a mistake yet, you will, someday.”  
  
He doesn't trust you. He doesn't trust you because of me. All that time you spent sobbing into his shoulder? He must really think you're some kind of manipulative fiend.  
  
 _“Sans,”_ Alphys bristles.  
  
“heh.” He backs down, but only by closing his eyes so he's no longer trying to stare into my soul. “ok, you're right. it's enough for today. i'll take this one back, and you take care of the flower. we'll figure out everything soon.”   
  
He grabs your hand so tightly it feels like he's cutting off your circulation. He doesn't drag you but it's dangerously close to that, and you stumble the first time before you catch your feet and manage to keep step. You look back one last time before you get to the door, and you can see Asriel staring after you. Then the door shuts.

* * *

You lay in your room, hands folded neatly on your chest. From here, you can still see the unblinking lens of the camera. It's staring at you, so you stare back. They've left you here for a long time. Definitely been a few hours.  
  
They're finally reviewing the footage, huh. That stupid test you agreed to do with Gaster must have made them suspicious of us. They already think you're different, that you can feel but you're not feeling the 'right things.' What happens when you fall into a category they consider dangerous? What would they do then?   
  
It's great, isn't it? They made you. If they even start to doubt you, they'll probably just kill you off, quietly. They'll shut you down like a malfunctioning machine.  
  
If they think that you're me, they're really going to hate you.   
  
“Chara?”   
  
You hear a familiar voice, slightly muffled. Sounds like it's coming from behind the door. You sit up.  
  
There's a click. A pause. And then the door slowly creaks open. Asriel pops up from the ground, as if he's some kind of mole. Maybe he is. Is that how sentient plants move? Well, they have no legs, so...  
  
He smiles. Still looks nervous. “H-howdy. It, it took me a while to figure out how to move. But I think I got it now. Easier than I thought. U-um... so. No hard feelings about earlier, right? Did you mean what you said? About us still being friends.”  
  
You smile gently again. And nod. God, you're going to make me sick.  
  
“Y-yeah!” He giggles nervously. “It's a little scary, being a flower. But, um, you don't have your body either, and you're already... well, you're really strong, still....”  
  
He still just doesn't know when to shut up.  
  
“Hey, let's find a way out of this creepy basement, okay? I don't like it much here.”  
  
You think for a moment. You don't like the most recent turn of events. Even if you try to hold onto what normalcy you've found here... everything is unraveling. You don't like Gaster. You don't trust Alphys. You aren't trusted by Sans. Like an idiot, you want things to go back to how they were in the break room, when they just spent time with you.  
  
You shake your head.  
  
“Huh? Why not?” Asriel frowns at your refusal. “You... have some kind of other plan?”  
  
You nod. You're going to go back. You think that this is all my fault; that none of it would have happened if Sans hadn't seen you strangle the flower. So. You think that if you can prove that you feel more than just sadness and anger, they won't hate you as much.  
  
You're so naïve. They're going to kill you soon unless you escape.  
  
You'll meet this reality no matter how many times you reset.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This poor chapter's been through hell and back. The beginning was rewritten multiple times. The ending got altered as I rolled around a few days deciding on specific plot things in the future. Special thanks to Nym for beta-ing for me.


	13. Chapter 13

You're on a mission.  
  
When you open your eyes, you're back in your bed, hands folded neatly on your chest. It's the same place you woke up after your time with Gaster and the machine. You think that you did the last day wrong. This time, you're determined not to cry on anyone's shoulder or strangle flowers. If they think you can only feel sadness and anger, then you have to show them happiness and love. Rolling out of bed, you look one more time at the camera. They'll be watching everything you do and say soon, if they haven't started already.   
  
The door opens on cue, and you're already prepared. A stupid-looking grin covers your face. You already know your mystery visitor, and ambush him with a hug before he's even properly opened the door. The skeleton freezes immediately as you push yourself into his hoodie, looking up a wide smile.  
  
Sans's hand remains glued to the door, his other stiff against his side. You catch a brief flicker of blue beneath one of his eye sockets. He's smiling, but never returns your hug. “so. guess you've heard this chat before.”  
  
Your grin vanishes.  
  
“i mean, i was going to talk about friendship and responsibility. that being a person is more than doing the right thing or... well, it doesn't matter, right? if we're back here, it means none of what i said stuck with you.”  
  
He knows you went back in time. Given that he already broke the rules of the last time you time traveled... are you really that surprised? Gaster had said they needed to know when you messed with the timeline. Their answer was to inject Sans with determination. You eliminated that timeline, but that Sans never ceased to exist. Every time you go back, you're dragging him with you.  
  
He can't remember the destination you erased, only the journey. He knows you're messing with him. That's what you're doing, right? You think there's no consequences to your actions. You think you can just go back and do it better. You think I have a god complex? You're the one twisting their emotions into a result you desire.   
  
“No,” you insist, daring to meet his gaze.  
  
“no?”  
  
He doesn't believe you. It doesn't matter if you've had that conversation or not; you still dragged him across time and space just because you wanted to. This whole making friends nonsense is much harder than you anticipated.  
  
“I can feel love.” Tears threaten your eyes, as you repeat the faults he suspected of you from another timeline. “I can feel mercy. I can feel compassion.”  
  
Mercy isn't something you 'feel.' Mercy is something you're supposed to 'give.' Stupid.  
  
“...give mercy,” you correct yourself, looking away. Tears aren't exactly subtle and pretty much only prove you're capable of sadness, not any of the things you just described.  
  
Gently he pats you on the head. “i'm not trying to make this harder on you,” his tone softens. “you have a soul... you can become a real person, doing the right things for the right reasons. all i can do is hope that i can actually guide a being like you.”  
  
Slowly your hands untangle from his sides. “Please,” you beg.  
  
“please what? you want to make friends?” He's smiling.  
  
You nod ardently.  
  
He laughs. “how could i say no to that.” His phone glows inside his pocket. He takes it out to view his new message. He doesn't look happy at its contents. “it's alphs.”   
  
You already knew that.  
  
“well, i suppose you might as well come with me now, kid,” he sighs. “wouldn't want to leave you by your bonely self after that heart-to-heart.”  
  
You run back and grab a blanket off your bed, draping it across your arms, before returning happily to the skeleton. He gives you a curious glance, before simply shrugging.  
  


* * *

  
You're back in the heart of the lab. The golden flower which caused you so much heartache, the one who ruined your chance of friendship, now lies completely silent and motionless beneath panes of glass. Alphys waits there, turning at the sound of the opening door. “I-I did it,” she starts.  
  
Before she can finish, you dash forward and eagerly present her with the blanket from your room.   
  
“Oh, u-um, for me?” She accepts the blanket tactfully, her initial speech now derailed. It's not exactly a useful gift, but it's the same one that she gave to you in the break room. It had been a physical reminder that there were still people who cared about you, even if they weren't perfect.  
  
Your head bobs earnestly as you press the blanket further into her chest. “I trust you,” you answer a question she asked so long ago. “Everything you've done with science is because you want to help people.”  
  
You forgive her.  
  
She left you alone when you needed help the most. Yet even knowing that, you decide to trust her words over her actions. You decide to believe that she's trying her best, even if she isn't perfect. If you can't get your actions to match your beliefs the first time, how could you expect her to do the same?  
  
It's naïve. She'll just hurt you again in the future.  
  
“W-wow,” Alphys accepts your present. She holds it to her chest, embracing it warmly. “I... thank you. I'll... I'll work hard to be someone worthy of your trust.” She looks up suspiciously to Sans. “Did you... tell them to...?”  
  
“the kid sure is talkative today,” he shrugs. “but no, i haven't told them to do anything.”  
  
You beam radiantly at her, and she hesitantly returns your smile.   
  
“actually alphs, if you got a few moments, we really gotta talk...”  
  
Time has a way of wanting to remain set in its path. The two momentarily exchange words before Sans insists they speak in private, with the two of them leaving you alone, in the room. Well, not completely alone. This time, you wait patiently and stare down the flower.  
  
The door closes behind you.  
  
Immediately the flower opens his eyes, as if they have always been there to begin with. “Howdy, Chara,” he sings happily.  
  
You stagger back, nearly falling over from surprise. A talking flower, you expected. But Asriel still remembers my name.  
  
“Wow, you were being really nice to that scientist lady. Is this part of your plan? You think they'll let us go?”  
  
If you thought resetting would shut him up, you're sorely mistaken. He still has the great potential to mess up both of our lives. If you want, I would be happy to take care of this problem for you...  
  
“Shh,” you whisper, frowning. “Don't use real names.” The thought of Sans and Alphys thinking you're 'Chara' probably upsets you more than it does me.   
  
“Yours? And mine too?”   
  
You nod.  
  
“Okay, I'll just call you 'friend.' We _are_ best friends, after all,” he giggles. “But what about me? I like the name Flowey the flower, that sounds pretty funny, doesn't it?”  
  
What a stupid name. One day you'll be sick of him too, and beg me to strangle him.  
  
What? You want me to talk to him? I don't have anything to say to that crybaby. You do the talking.  
  
“So what's the plan? Let me in on it too!” He only talks more when you don't answer, and the questions are never-ending.  
  
Thankfully the door behind you opens. Instinctively you flinch, remembering the last time Sans shoved you against the wall. It doesn't happen this time. You're not smothering research materials. This time, their attention focuses solely on the little flower that's grown a face.  
  
“Howdy!” He hails them cheerfully, donning a cheesy smile, voice muffled beneath the glass. “I'm Flowey the flower.” He's taking this fake name business far too seriously.  
  
“alphs,” Sans's glares at Alphys “why is the flower talking? i thought you said there wasn't any soul involved in this.”

“U-um, I-I, u-um...” She starts to stammer.   
  
He sighs. “i'm just getting the doc to deal with this mess.”  
  


* * *

  
You and Asriel had no opportunity to talk further, not when Alphys was there watching too. Sans returned relatively quickly, now with Gaster getting dragged into this mess.  
  
The sterner skeleton has to bend to get a closer look at Flowey, who stares up curiously. A few seconds pass by, Gaster stroking his chin. You, Sans, and Alphys – everyone waits for something to happen.  
  
“Staring's rude. Can I help you?” Asriel finally breaks the silence.  
  
“Hm.” Gaster straightens and pulls back to a more reasonable distance. “I find it peculiar that a being without a soul can speak more concisely than a creation with a soul, even if it's a hand-me-down. I have a theory, of course, but...”  
  
Both you and Asriel frown at his words. “Hey! Don't talk about me like I'm not here,” Asriel huffs. “Same goes for my friend, too. I bet they don't like it.”  
  
“Friend, is it,” Gaster scoffs. “Do you even understand what you're saying? Strangers are hardly friends, and I somehow doubt an artificial construct's first waking thoughts would be about friendship.”  
  
“Nu-uh,” Asriel sticks out his tongue. “Me and my friend are inseparable. You're the one who doesn't understand. I bet you don't even have friends.”  
  
Before Gaster has a chance to say anything, Sans starts to laugh uncontrollably. He pats Gaster heartily across the back. The other skeleton only glares at his brother, clearly not as amused.  
  
“you know what? i think we're going about this the wrong way. maybe we should start treating 'em more like kids. cuz that's what they are, right? they've just skipped their infancy and jumped straight into childhood.” His grin turns mischievous, and he grabs Alphys's hands. “c'mon alphs, i think my bro needs some time with the kids. making friends and all that.” He starts pulling her towards the door.  
  
“What? B-but-” She protests meekly.  
  
“Sans, please be serious for once.”  
  
“i am,” he shrugs. “i mean, the kid wants to be friends. they told me that. that includes you. right kid?” He looks at you.  
  
You nod without hesitation. You think you've learned a lot recently. Gaster isn't a bad person, because he wants to help people, like Alphys. He just isn't convinced you're a real person. You think you can fix that.  
  
Sans looks thrilled. “ok, have fun.” He slams the door shut with too much force. He's way too excited about this.  
  
Gaster grumbles. “This is ridiculous. I don't know what he expects us to do.”  
  
“Let's do something fun!” Asriel bobs happily, content with the sudden turn of events.   
  
“Such as?”  
  
“I don't know, a tour? I haven't seen much of this basement yet.”  
  
“It's not a _basement_. It's a laboratory.”  
  


* * *

  
Somehow you all end up settling on a tour. You carry the pot that holds Asriel, because you think that would be easier than him constantly burrowing and re-surfacing from the ground. You keep him close to your chest, careful to avoid spilling even a speck of dirt. Gaster lacks any talent when it comes to explaining the lab, often giving overly abbreviated or technical answers. Asriel has the reverse problem, asking endless questions about absolutely everything.  
  
What an annoying day.  
  
Eventually Asriel complains that everything Gaster has shown them so far is 'boring,' and suggests that he show you something that he likes. His response...  
  
Well. It's not boring, that's for sure. The gigantic machine spans half the room; a complicated thing that looks like it's out of a sci-fi film. Asriel gasps as soon as you enter.   
  
“What _is_ this?” Asriel demands.  
  
You've already seen it and know what it is, before Gaster explains. It's Sans's time machine. You remember him talking about it a few times, and even found him working on it in multiple timelines.   
  
“A time machine,” Gaster confirms your thoughts.   
  
“You mean, we can go to the future or the past or something?” Asriel wonders.  
  
“Not exactly. I never did much like calling it a 'time machine', even though that's what it is. It's more like... it erases key points from the time continuum's history.”   
  
Well. Can't say that's how I'd expect a time machine to work.  
  
“In simpler terms, it makes it so that the target never existed at all. The thought process being, of course, that we could one day completely erase the barrier from existence. If it never existed at all, then it wouldn't be keeping us trapped down here, would it?” He sighs. “Of course, there's always a problem. In addition to having a limited radius, it also requires extreme amounts of determination to trigger. Even without those issues, there's still a missing factor in our formulae. The rest of the timeline could become unstable, and destroy reality itself.”

“If you can't use it, why is it here?” Asriel asks.  
  
“Because you two were created to use it.”  
  


* * *

  
Alone, you lay back in your bed, eyes open as you stare at the ceiling. Thinking of the time machine and Gaster's words. The others had said you were the key to monsterkind's future. That wasn't just wishful thinking... they had a plan in mind. You were supposed to be a key.  
  
You probably weren't supposed to be sentient. You can still remember parts of your life before I was there to guide you. Without me, you just complied with whatever was asked of you. That was your purpose, and you had no thought to comprehend it. And why would you need self-awareness? All they wanted was to use you; to use the power of determination through you.  
  
Yet because of that stupid short skeleton, you started thinking that you could be something more than a doll. Today you actually thought you could be 'friends' with everyone.  
  
You're not friends with everyone, though.  
  
You're forgetting someone.  
  
Can't you figure it out?  
  
You're still not friends with your little imaginary friend. And how could we be, when you keep me locked away like some kind of beast? You accept and listen to everyone except me. Whatever conventions you think apply to others, you think I'm immune to.  
  
Can you blame me for hating you when you keep me carefully tucked under your thumb?  
  
What are you even afraid of, anyway? If something goes wrong, you can just go back in time. I can feel the determination coursing through your veins, even now. Today's reality isn't one you'll undo.  
  
Would it really be bad to give me just a little freedom, every now and then?   
  
“Chara?” A familiar voice calls out, behind your door.  
  
You want me to talk to him? Fine. Then let me talk to him.  
  
Slowly your mind's resistance unravels, letting me sink inside. It feels natural this time, like being invited into someone's house as a guest, instead of breaking in. I fall in comfortably to you skin, tasting the fresh air and actually feeling the mattress beneath me. I roll out of bed, right as Asriel pops out from the tile. A small pile of dirt marks wherever he burrows and surfaces.  
  
“Today was fun, huh,” he hums, swaying back and forth. “But today was actually yesterday, wasn't it. Did you somehow go back in time? That's really cool. Even though it sounds strange, it feels... really natural. Maybe I was waiting for it to happen without knowing it,” he laughs. “So, are you gonna fill me in on your plan? You have a plan, right?”  
  
Oh. Do I have a plan.  
  
“Asriel...” I laugh. I can't stop. Laughing.  
  
And laughing...  
  
You IDIOT.  
  
“I have a plan to become all powerful. We'll destroy everything in this world. Everyone, everything in these wretched memories... Let's turn 'em all into dust.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I lied, I guess this chapter was mainly happy (except for the end). No more freebies. Thanks to my beta-reader Nym on this again.


	14. Chapter 14

“I have a plan to become all powerful. We'll destroy everything in this world. Everyone, everything in these wretched memories... Let's turn 'em all into dust.”  
  
Your mind immediately hitches at my threat, and I can feel you clawing against the glass. What? Are you worried? You can just reset, so they won't stay dead. Even if you think I'm up to something, you'll inevitably regain control at some point. You just need a few moments before you can send us back. So what's a little murder between friends?  
  
Your presence shrinks back, leaving me and Asriel in peace. It's hard for me to read emotion based off a flower's face. “Why?” He asks, voice strangely meek.  
  
“Because they _owe_ us, Asriel,” I snarl. If anyone would have understood, I thought it would have been him. “It's their fault I'm trapped in this fake human! And now they brought you back as a flower, like some kind of sick joke!”  
  
“But... but wouldn't we be dead without them?”  
  
“We're already dead. It's like we barely exist. So why should they exist, if we can't? Don't tell me you actually like those sad sops. Or are you really going to defend their side over your sibling?” I can feel the heat rising in my body at the thought. It wouldn't be the first time that Asriel picks some complete stranger over me.  
  
“No! No, I would never, Chara,” he protests too quickly. “I was just wondering, haha. They're all idiots.”  
  
Good. I turn from the blabbering flower, to the now open door. At least he's good for something. Alone, I wouldn't be able to leave this room without one of those prying scientists. Your body still feels strange, like I'm marionetting a puppet from afar. They would likely see the difference and start watching me like a hawk... and it would be so troublesome if they even tried to stop me.  
  
“I want you to listen carefully,” I tell him, before he can continue his incessant rambling. “Remember how the whole day reset? If that happens again, you need to meet me in that room again.”  
  
Asriel burrows beneath the ground again, popping up sporadically as I leave my prison. “Oh! So you mean like... they're not gonna stay dead?”   
  
I roll my eyes and decide it's better not to answer. I have a very specific destination in mind.  
  
“So who are we gonna dust first?”  
  
Ignoring him, I open one of the hallway's doors. It flings forward with far too much force, hitting the wall with a _bang_. Maybe I should try to be stealthy or something, but it's really hard for me to care about something like that.  
  
Fumbling against the wall, my fingers find the right groove for the light switch, snapping it on. The 'time machine' waits for us ominously, illuminated by the sickly pale lab light.   
  
“There's no one in this room...” Asriel sways on his stem, looking around tentatively.   
  
I sigh. He still doesn't get it. Approaching the time machine, I shuffle some of the surrounding drapes off of it. There's a seat inside it facing a computer-like monitor and keyboard. I flip every switch and tap every button, trying to get the piece of garbage just to start.   
  
“How will we dust someone from here?” Asriel continues talking, watching my actions.  
  
“Don't you remember our tour? This machine _erases targets from the timeline's existence._ ” Finally, I find the right button. The apparatus comes to life with mechanical whirs, the computer screen blipping on.  
  
Your mind reels. Your presence claws against mine like a wild animal, spikes of pain blossoming in my mind. I gasp at your ferocity, my hands gripping my head like it can somehow cage you. I will _not_ give up. _This body is mine now and I'm not giving it back!  
  
_ You figured it out a bit late! Not willing to see if your friends are still there when _I delete them from the timeline?!_ Reset, I dare you! Think that will make them come back?!   
  
“Chara?!” Flowey's voice calls from afar as I flail wildly against you. The mental battle has my body spasming in an effort to contain you, and I don't dare release my hands from my head lest you somehow leak out.   
  
_I know exactly who's going first! That grinning skeleton that infected you with foolishness and planted the seeds of rebellion in your mind. Life would have been so much better if you'd just kept on listening to me!_  
  
I pry my hand off my head, trying desperately to reach the keyboard. The monitor blips about choosing a target. My hand hovers above the 's', but you clog my movement like a physical weight. My whole body shakes as my breathing and heart rate increase. My vision flickers; or was it the world? _We're not going back until I finish here!_  
  
Abruptly I slam my fingers down, ignoring the _s_ completely and opting for the _a_ next to it. Your mind slips just for a moment in shock, too slow to keep up with my change of direction.   
  
  
_alphys |_  
  
  
The computer screen blinks the name as I pound the enter key. If this thing could potentially delete the barrier, then it should have more than enough power against a monster.  
  
The world fades, your reset dragging me away from the machine...  
  


* * *

  
For a moment, your mind threatens to overwhelm mine. But that's not how this works. You thought it was the reset that made us change spots last time. That isn't entirely true.  
  
I wake up gasping, and bolt upright from the bed. I was expecting it this time. It's different.  
  
After all, I've managed to wrestle control away from you a few times, right? Whenever I surged with emotion, some kind of response you failed to anticipate, I was able to take control, if only briefly. The reset was just a red herring. You took over last time because the reset surprised me. Now it's your turn to watch from the sidelines. It was a theory then, but now it's a proven reality. So why don't you conserve your energy and stop your wild thrashing?  
  
You give up, finally. Settling back into my mind the same way I used to watch you.   
  
I sigh as my body starts to relax, stiff from constantly fighting two people's wills.   
  
There's an _audible_ click from the door. A few seconds of silence. And then Asriel pops from the ground. At least he can follow simple instructions, and remembered to meet me here.  
  
“Hey...” He frowns, staring up at me. “That scientist lady. She didn't come and say goodnight to me this time.” He stops talking, as if waiting for me to respond.

What? So what? I don't know what he expects me to say.  
  
“Did we really go back in time? When you did that last time, everyone did the same stuff, except us.”  
  
“You're so dense,” I sneer. There's no time for explaining this all over again. Looks like that time machine did exactly what it was supposed to do. I slide off the bed, heading towards the now unlocked door.  
  
He burrows, popping up further along the hallway. “I don't remember her name. Do you?”  
  
I stop. I remember who she was. But her name feels oddly fuzzy and out of place. It's like trying to remember a fading dream. What was it again...? Does it even matter?  
  
“I don't know how I exist if she doesn't,” he sniffles. “Hey, what was going on with you earlier? You seemed like you were in pain or something. Is that why you sent us back?”  
  
I fling open the door open, arriving at the same room with the time machine. Taking a few steps forward, I feel your presence growing tense. This is going to be another battle, isn't it. You took my advice and had decided to conserve your strength, but only so that you could fight with the right opportunity.  
  
“I don't like this plan. It... it's not very nice. They aren't mean people, are they? Even if the things they've done are wrong, or caused us trouble.”  
  
Please, Asriel. You were just asking who to dust a few minutes ago, in a different parallel universe.  
  
“Chara, wait! At least... at least listen to your best friend, just this once, hear me out, okay?”  
  
“ _Friend?_ ” I laugh incredulously, spinning on my heel to face the pathetic weed. “You are _not_ my friend. You're the reason we're in this mess to begin with. As far as I'm concerned, it'd be better if you didn't exist.”  
  
He visibly wilts, shrinking back. “B-but, but you said...”  
  
“That wasn't _me_ , okay?” My fists clench. I've been struggling this whole time not take revenge immediately. And now he thinks we're friends, thanks to you? He shouldn't have that luxury! “I gave up my life for our plan, and then you went and wasted it! And now you think I've forgiven you, like nothing happened? You're going to have to work a lot harder than that!”  
  
“Th-that wasn't you? B-but-” Tears brim to his eyes.  
  
“There's two of us in here, okay?!” I snarl. “My damn body roommate won't even let me _breathe_ without permission. If it wasn't for them, I would have killed all these idiots and left this god forsaken lab a long time ago! But they mew and they cry just like you, always whining about friends and the right thing to do. I've finally figured out how to hijack this body and I'm going to erase every last one of them.”  
  
“two of you, huh. that certainly explains things.”  
  
My boiling blood freezes at the familiar voice. Asriel and I simultaneously turn towards the entrance. Casually leaning against the door frame, a certain grimy skeleton stares into my soul.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darn villain monologues. They'll always get you in trouble.


	15. Chapter 15

How is it even possible? There's no way a stubby short skeleton could be considered stealthy. But there had been no sign of his approach... it was like he had just _appeared_ in the doorway. I open my mouth to refute his realization, but stop when I notice the blue flames burning in his eye sockets. His gaze pierces my soul and _he'll know_ if I try to concoct some lie.  
  
“it's hard to describe, but sometimes there was just this hateful aura around you, like it was just a matter of time before you tried something bad. and other times, i thought i was really getting through to you, like i could feel your heart warming up,” he shrugs. “sometimes the two were so close together, i wondered if i was just imagining things. it's good to know that a little of my guidance was reaching one of you in there.”  
  
There's still a fair distance between myself and the time machine. If I could just somehow reach it and get rid of him – but I can feel you tensing at my train of thought. You won't let me get there so easily. Even a small delay would give Sans too much time to figure out my plan.  
  
“scientifically speaking, it explains a lot less, though. actually, it falls into the realm of 'impossible.'” He casually takes a few steps closer, hands still in his pockets. “we knew that the transplanted human soul might affect frisk; that it could essentially absorb the previous owner's entity. how much, or whether it took on the personality of the fallen child or the doll, was really impossible to gauge. but there's only one soul in that body, so there can't be two different people.”  
  
“Well, there's two of us. And here I am. The impossible made possible,” I match his plastic smile. There's multiple solutions to this little dilemma, but all of them end with his death. My eyes drift to Asriel, but he's too busy cowering in the corner. He's probably not going to be much help.  
  
“but how sure are you that there's two?”  
  
“What kind of stupid question is that?” My grin flickers off, my response impulsive. Not like he'd have any way of knowing. The fights, the conversations we've had... what, are you turning into _my_ imaginary friend now?  
  
“i mean, i don't doubt that you hear voices in your head... and you certainly seem to be a lot more talkative than the other one, but- actually, never mind,” he interrupts himself. “it doesn't matter. but what does matter... is that alphys is gone.”  
  
I remember as soon as he says the name. The lizard doctor... the one we erased before the last reset. How had I forgotten that? The name was so fuzzy until he mentioned it.  
  
“yeah... i tried asking my bro about it, but he didn't even remember an employee by that name. said it's always just been us. so i went ahead and looked up the employee list... and sure enough, there's no record of her name anywhere. so if no one recognizes her but me... why can i remember her?”  
  
Damn. That one timeline where he absorbed determination... it's _still_ causing me problems.  
  
“Hehe...” The fire extinguishes from his eyes, the sockets pure black. “You've been busy messing things up, haven't you. Who were you planning to erase next? My brother, or me?”  
  
“You'd already be gone, if things had turned out right,” I laugh. There's no way I can be scared of him, even if he's trying to frighten me. I know what it's like to run a knife through his bones. “So what are you gonna do about it? Kill your own project?”  
  
“i'll stop you.” Sans pulls his hands out of his pockets. The blue flames flash back into his eyes and cover his boney hands. “after all, you're my responsibility. can't just stand by and let you destroy the world.”  
  
The world snaps blue, like it's been covered in tinted glass. My breath chokes and I gasp beneath the pressure, my eyes bulging like a fish. What _is_ this? I try to take a step forward but it's like treading underwater; my body feels so heavy.   
  
You ram your consciousness into mine and my mind goes numb. Stop it, get out, get OUT, I don't have time for this right now!   
  
Bones spike from the ground like claws. They're wildly apart, practically aimed against the lab instead of me. One grazes my arm, spilling a single drop of blood. That was entirely too close for comfort; I stagger away as if the distance will somehow make me safer. The cut burns like sulfur, the pain snapping my mind into clarity and pushing your presence out.  
  
“You- how are you doing this?!” I can't believe it. When I look at the skeleton, his eye burns blue with magic. It has to be. But then why... if he had this kind of power, then why... “I've _killed_ you before!”   
  
“really? and yet you're still surprised. maybe you're not as in control as you think.”  
  
Nothing I say even rattles him. How could I fool everyone except the fool? If I just had my knife...!  
  
He flings his arms haphazardly, like he's flailing against an invisible enemy. I'm not even close. A legion of bones summon at crazy angles. I break into a dash, but I'm forced to roll and avoid some of the attacks. Even without a knife, if I can just get close...!  
  
“actually, i have no idea where this magic came from. one day, it was just there? so i figured i might as well learn how to use it, but uh, it's still a work in progress. you'd probably know better than me about its origins anyway,” he laughs, eyes darkening. “Isn't that right?”   
  
I dodge another blow only for gravity to abruptly reverse. My breath catches as I slam into the wall, my flickering vision seeing the skeleton with a raised hand. You crawl into my mind like a bad itch that won't give up.  
  
“Dammit, Asriel, _do something!_ ” I shriek. This is too much. I don't stand a chance at this rate, not when it's two versus one.  
  
“M-me? B-but I, I can't, I can't fight, I...” The flower continues to cower uselessly in the corner.  
  
“Use your brain. There's one way to get rid of him permanently,” I hiss. I'm not exactly quiet, but hopefully I'm far enough that Sans won't hear everything, or at least not catch on.  
  
Asriel's eyes widen. He gets it. While I'm busy fighting, he still can...  
  
“No, I couldn't,” he immediately refuses. “If I do that, he... he wouldn't...”  
  
“Is it any wonder why I don't think of you as a friend anymore, Asriel? You're still picking random strangers over me! If you want any chance of becoming friends again, you _need_ to do this!”   
  
There's no other way. Gaster claimed that we were created to wield the machine. Asriel should be able to do this. He has to. He's the only one who can get me out of this corner.  
  
The gravity lightens. Immediately I spring to my feet, launching myself against the skeleton again. All I need to do is buy Asriel some time. Because he will, right? He won't abandon me again. He wouldn't dare.  
  
Sans throws more attacks, but I'm getting better at dodging. Closing the distance. If I punch him hard enough, I'm pretty sure I can shatter all his bones. Just because he can throw some attacks doesn't mean he can take them.   
  
_I hate him._ He's the one who turned you against me.   
  
My fingertips brush air, as the skeleton manages to take a few steps back. So close. If I was just a little bit faster...  
  
The time machine behind me whirs to life. And for the first time in this encounter, recognition blossoms on the skeleton's face. He understands the imminent danger. His blue magic throws me against the wall like a rag doll. Stars dance in my vision, but for once you're too dumbstruck watching to even try and fight me.  
  
Asriel's vines have reached to encompass the apparatus. “I'm sorry,” he cries. “I can't let my friend die again.”   
  
Sans runs to the machine.  
  
The world is assaulted by a maelstrom of kaleidoscopic light.  
  


* * *

  
The world is bleeding.  
  
That's the only way to describe this.   
  
The room distorts into rainbow-colored hues, the room flickering as if it's a dying TV. Everything is grainy and I think that if I reach out, I can actually pull apart the visible threads. I do reach out, but my hands meet nothing. The colors fade. I'm back in the room.  
  
What the hell was that about?  
  
You're oddly silent. That little exchange blew my mind, and you didn't even try to take over.  
  
…Nothing.  
  
That foolish skeleton is gone now. He actually had me worried for a moment. But all that time traveling nonsense is a thing of the past now. Who cares if he knows about resets when he doesn't even exist anymore?   
  
“Chara.”  
  
I jump at the voice. It's Asriel. In the corner of the room, I see the small flower. When did he get here?  
  
“I did it. He's gone.” There's a frown on that flowery face.  
  
“Good riddance. The world's a better place without that pile of bones. At least I could depend on you for once.”  
  
Silence. That's... pretty unusual, actually. Words seem to be his remedy for all problems.  
  
“Asriel?”   
  
“You're not Chara.” He says it like it's a logical conclusion.  
  
 _“What?”_  
  
“You're not Chara!” The flower shrieks, voice spiking unevenly. “You talk like Chara, but you're not!”  
  
“What kind of nonsense are you-”  
  
“The Chara I know is strong and kind and wants to help people and wouldn't want to hurt anyone and... and...!” His own tears choke him off.  
  
“I must have been brought back to life for a reason,” I sneer at the sobbing flower. He already made his choice. Now he wants to regret it? “Maybe I'm not the same person you remember. But you were brought back in the same way. Whatever I am, you are, too. And if you're not, then you will be, soon.”  
  
He shakes his head, covering his face with his petals. “No,” he insists, without offering any logic. “That can't be right. You... I'll stop you from hurting anyone else!”  
  
“Asriel!”  
  
He burrows under ground and disappears.  
  
“You idiot,” I call out after him. “You just erased someone and now you suddenly care?”  
  
“I don't care.”  
  
I hear his voice on the other side of the door. Quickly I dash to it, but it's still closed. My hands push against it. Asriel had been the one freeing me in the earlier resets. But he never unlocked the door this time....  
  
“I don't care, and it scares me...” He sniffles on the other side. “But I remember being someone who once wanted to do the right thing. That's why I need to stop you, Chara. No... whoever... or whatever you are... I will stop you. That's why... I'll erase you.”  
  
“Asriel!?”  
  
No answer.  
  
I slam my fists against the metal door. It doesn't so much as budge.   
  
“You wouldn't dare! You can't be serious!”   
  
_Bam. Bam._  
  
“Let me out!”   
  
Asriel doesn't even understand who or what you are.  
  
If my soul disappears... would you even exist anymore?

 


	16. Chapter 16

Asriel isn't coming back. My fists slow their pounding against the metallic door. I'm left breathless, alone in the prison cell. He's betraying me, again. Even after all his begging and pleading for me to forgive him, he doesn't really mean it. I knew he was lying before he knew it himself. That's just the kind of person Asriel is. He doesn't really know what he wants. It makes him malleable like clay, to a certain extent. Yet after time the clay hardens, and refuses to bend any further. Instead, it just breaks.  
  
One day he wakes up and says, 'I don't want this.'  
  
That's the day he killed me.  
  
Today's the day he will do it again.  
  
I lean my head against the cool metal and breathe. There's no way I can escape and stop him. You're certainly not even trying to help. If I die, you will, too. A body can't exist without a soul. Shouldn't you try to think of some way out of this?   
  
Footsteps. I can hear the steady rhythm of feet behind the door. I lift my head up and listen. But who? It can't possibly be Asriel the flower, and everyone important to you is gone. The sound stops right in front. The door clicks unlocked.  
  
It's Gaster.  
  
Noir skeleton stands with his arms crossed neatly behind his back, looking down at me without any kind of emotion. “As I thought. One creation is gone, yet the doll remains faithfully behind. Now, come with me.”  
  
I don't resist as he reaches for my hand. “Why are you here?”   
  
His brow raises at the sound of my voice. “So, my behavior is new to you. Good. That means I haven't previously failed, and that this is my true chance.” He leads me out of the room, and I'm able to keep up with his quick pace easily.   
  
Briefly I consider running to the time machine to stop Asriel, but... too much time has passed. If I'm still here, does that mean something has happened? And... we're walking that direction now anyway.  
  
“My reports show a massive anomaly in the timespace continuum. Simply put... it's not the same kind of power that you and Flowey have. It's the time machine, isn't it?”   
  
I nod, if only because I'm curious to know more.  
  
“But time traveling isn't so simple. That's why I decided to scrap working on that cursed machine. The entire universe's timeline might collapse. I have to stop the culprit. I've put a safeguard on the machine as soon as the readings came back. But it won't last forever.”  
  
A slow smile creeps on my face. I can't help it. He thinks Asriel is the one messing up the timeline. More than that, Gaster has unwittingly just foiled Asriel's ill-conceived plan.   
  
“You will help me with this,” Gaster insists, like I'm bound by any of his silly demands.  
  
I nod and pretend to be like you.  
  
We reach the room with the timeline-erasing machine. Gaster slams the door open so hard that it nearly breaks. Asriel has a single vine-like coil around the seat, but oddly remains extremely still, despite Gaster's loud entrance. He doesn't even turn his petaled head to greet us, instead staring as if frozen by the screen.  
  
“That's enough. You will not interfere with the world's natural timeline any longer,” Gaster walks stiffly towards the weed, clenching his fists.  
  
“Agh... y-you... wh-what... what is this...” Asriel struggles to talk.  
  
“Quite simply, I set a trap for whoever would try to fiddle with the machine. Timespace around you has temporarily paralyzed you. That should give us plenty of time to chat,” he glares. “Do you have _any_ idea of what you've done? What repeatedly using this device will do? It's a miracle that the world hasn't unraveled yet, and it hangs by just a single thread. This machine obliterates existing timelines. Every time you use it, you bring the timespace closer to collapsing upon itself.”  
  
“It's not my fault,” Asriel complains, still locked in place. “I'm not the one who-”  
  
Casually I step into his line of sight. He chokes and sputters on his own words, accusation lost as our eyes meet. _You were going to kill me,_ I want to say. _But now you're at my mercy._  
  
Gaster's presence means nothing. He's already filed me off on the harmless list. Right now he's barely even paying attention to me, entering the machine and rapidly tapping on the keyboard.  
  
“Chara,” Gaster says.  
  
My attention snaps back to him. Maybe I filed him off too quickly.  
  
“You were trying to erase someone named 'Chara', yet that person no longer exists,” he repeats, looking at Asriel. He isn't talking to me; he's talking about me. “Although this doll might have their soul, it lacks any of the memories or defining features of that human child. It is simply an empty vessel. But, I suppose the specifics matter little, when the machine matches the user's intent. I suppose I would have been the next target of your indiscriminate rampage?”   
  
I move closer to the inside of the machine while Gaster entertains Asriel. “It was originally designed as a weapon, you know. What would happen when monsters eventually reached the surface? Even if we realized our dream, history is doomed to repeat itself. The humans would never approve. A single mishap on monsterkind's side would just give them an excuse to shove us back in here. That was this machine's intent. Not just to remove the barrier, but to get rid of any problems that arose as a result. Death only promotes fear, but if any problematic humans were to simply cease to exist from everyone's memories... well, it seemed like an elegant solution at the time. And now it's being used against monsters. I might feel sad about it, but to be honest, it's hard to care about something I don't remember.”  
  
“It's not my fault!” Asriel protests. “Mister, we're in _danger_ right now, I'm not the real threat.”  
  
I rest my hands on the keyboard. Without your resistance and these fools talking to each other, it's remarkably easy.  
  
“Please don't, Chara,” Asriel whimpers.  
  
“You were always the one that held us back.” Always. His death would never be satisfying, because he can never atone for wasting our chance. “It would have been better if you never existed.”  
  
ASRIEL |  
  
Gaster voice becomes oddly animated. He's talking some nonsense about the world; about how using the machine will certainly destroy everything.  
  
I hit the enter button.  
  
The world silently cries out in a blast of color.  
  


* * *

  
The world is bleeding.  
  
It's just like before. Vaguely I get the sense that I'm still on the bed, but it's not right. The world shimmers as if uncertain of its own existence. Parts are too bright, and others too dull. It's giving me a headache. I clutch my temples and wait for it to subside.  
  
It's not stopping.  
  
I slide off the bed and onto the floor. The ground rolls like waves of the sea, and I struggle to walk even a few steps forward. I don't succeed. I've barely taken five paces before I lose my balance, toppling towards the locked door-  
  
I fall _through_ the door, phasing through it like a ghost. I collapse on the tile in the hallway, my breath catching in my throat.  
  
 _What's going on??_  
  
Is this what Gaster was talking about? Is this the end of the world? I was expecting something like death, not – not some weird hell where reality doesn't make sense. If I can go through a solid door, then what's stopping me from sinking through the ground-  
  
No _no no no no_ it's like a nightmare where just considering it makes it a reality I'm going to drown _it's sucking me in like quicksand!_  
  
You step inside my mind and there's no point to resist. You want to deal with this? Be my guest. I'll gladly step back and watch how you deal with reality breaking.  
  
Your hand clench and the floor stops trying to eat you. You manage to find your feet, but everything is still so wrong.   
  
It's over. It's the end of the world.

 


	17. Chapter 17

The world itself is breaking, assaulting your senses with contradictions. Colors refuse to remain stationary. The air smells sickly sweet like golden flowers. The background hum of the lab has faded to absolute silence, like watching a movie on mute. The walls and floor refuse to remain beneath your touch, rolling like waves, constantly seeking to knock you down or suck you in.  
  
You put one foot after another, staggering around with surprising conviction. But I know you're just pretending to have a plan. The world is beyond saving, just like your friends.  
  
You follow my old path, to the door with the time machine. As you reach for the door, the floor buckles beneath you, flinging you through the not-solid steel frame. Noir skeleton sits within the contraption, and he has never looked so pathetic.  
  
His once perfectly creased clothes have been wrinkled with his poor posture, slouched over the keyboard like a child who has fallen asleep on their desk. His eye sockets are black and vacant, staring ahead at nothing. “It's over,” his voice comes out in a hoarse whisper, breaking the unnaturally pure silence. “Timespace is falling apart. It's done.”  
  
Tears well in your eyes, because you don't want this to be the end. Your tiny hands reach out to comfort the tall skeleton. You can only reach his arm, but it's thankfully solid.  
  
The smallest pinpricks of light return to his eyes, watching you. He doesn't try to shake you away, nor usher you closer. “This can't be an accident. And it can't happen in a single moment. I never would have let this occur without intervening – I don't need trans-timeline knowledge to recognize that about myself. You have won.”  
  
You shake your head vehemently at his accusation.  
  
More light pools within his eyes. “You did this, didn't you?”  
  
You shake your head again.  
  
“Then – would you fix it?”  
  
Your eyes widen. How could you fix this?  
  
“You would stop it if you could?” Gaster grabs your shoulders desperately, his pointy fingers nearly piercing your skin.  
  
You nod frantically.  
  
“Listen to me. The universe's timespace is collapsing on itself.” His grip lessens to a more comfortable state, his gaze transferring to the machine that surrounds him. “I created you to travel between the timelines. But this machine, while the effects might appear similar, actually functions in a very different way. It destroys the entire timeline, instead of simply shifting to a different one.”  
  
You tilt your head curiously, unsure of Gaster's explanation.  
  
“Think of time like a tree,” he explains again. “Whenever you use your determination, you are passing from one branch to the next. This does not harm the tree; you are simply traversing to a different branch. But this device... it removes that branch completely. Instead of moving to a different timeline, it chops that branch down completely. But nothing can survive without the correct support. Like a building, if enough support pillars are knocked down, the whole thing will eventually crumble. That is why I resolved never to use this machine!” He slams his fist down on the metal, the abrupt motion making you jump. The metallic sound rings, and rings, and rings, and rings to a seemingly endless eternity.  
  
“This timeline is doomed. There is no fixing that,” he continues miserably. “So we won't. To fix the rest of timespace, this timeline must be erased. The area around here will be corrupted, but the world will mend the rest itself. It's the same principle that humans use to treat extensively bleeding wounds. Sometimes it's too much for the human body to mend. Left alone, the human would lose too much blood to survive. Instead, they amputate the limb to preserve the rest of the body.”  
  
He ushers you inside the machine with him. “Your ability is to travel between timelines. You must leave this place at the moment you destroy the timeline, or else you will cease to exist, too. There will be no immediate point for you to return here, but timespace has a way of correcting itself. When it can't place you back in this timeline, eventually it will drop you off on a different path, likely to something that serves as an anchor to your soul.”  
  
Things are moving quickly, and you're having trouble processing his explanation. Gaster has already set you on the controls, but you realize something important. A point that he left out in his explanation. He said that you could travel between the timelines, and so you wouldn't be erased when this one stopped existing. But the same isn't true for Gaster. You grab onto his shirt, refusing to let go when he tries to step back.  
  
“You'll die.” You look at him firmly.  
  
He smiles back. Your fear is immediately confirmed.  
  
“It's not the same as dying.” It sounds like he's saying it just to be strong. “The machine only affects a limited space around it. This entire lab will become corrupted, and my presence with it. There's still a chance I can fix this timeline, or I might be able to escape and follow you.”  
  
You don't believe him.  
  
You used to be so scared of him. You even hated him enough to think the world was better off without him. But now...   
  
He will die a hero, saving people that won't even remember him. It's the same death that you had wanted.  
  
“Don't cry,” he gently pats your head, and you realize that the tears are streaming down your face. “In some ways, it's a relief. My work was always very lonely. I often wondered, who am I doing this for? Is it just for myself? But then today, I... realized. I wasn't always alone. There were others here; ones you previously erased. When I find them, it will be like discovering another part of myself. I'll remember who I really am.”  
  
“If I erase you first, and then the world-” You try, applying the same logic that would save your friends...  
  
“No,” Gaster interrupts immediately. “No. Look at this world. It's falling apart. Any more stress, and it will surely fall disintegrate. You are the only exception to this rule, being able to travel between the timelines. Erasing this world is the last weight it can sustain.”  
  
You think that it's good, that you're the only exception. Because there's something outside of this timeline that you still need to erase.  
  
Wait, what?  
  
Gaster extracts your hand away from him, placing your hand resolutely on the keyboard. “This is the only way.”  
  
The machine hums to life beneath your fingertips.  
  
Hey, what else are you planning on erasing? You're not getting any funny ideas, are you?  
  
You think of the friends whose names you can no longer remember. You think of a short skeleton who told you once that you could be a real person. He told you that as long as a person felt a hint of compassion, then they could still be a good person. He was right about Gaster.  
  
He was wrong about me.  
  
“Farewell.” Gaster releases you.  
  
You finish typing:  
  
 _Timeline |_  
  
It doesn't matter what you type; it matches the user's intent. To save the rest of the world, you'll sacrifice Gaster and this timeline. The world rebukes immediately, violently responding to the command. But you're not done. You're typing something else; you won't leave until you finish. Everything in the world is washed-out grey, and I can't even see the screen anymore to see what you're typing out.  
  
In the entire time we've been together, you know that I never felt love, mercy, or compassion. So there's nothing left to save.   
  
You're going to erase me, aren't you?  
  
Hey, I know that we don't see eye to eye. But think about this rationally. I'm your soul. You can't exist without me. Is this really worth the risk?   
  
Look, I have every right to exist as much as you do.  
  
Please don't erase me.  
  
I've already died. I've already died twice. Please, don't make this a third time.  
  
You hit enter.  
  
The world is gone.  
  


* * *

  
It's space.  
  
The prison bedroom, the mouse hole with the coffee cup, Gaster, Sans, Alphys... all these things are no more. Or maybe they do still exist, perhaps in a different way, now that I can remember their names.  
  
The night sky stretches endlessly, an eternity of darkness illuminated only by faint pinpricks of light. The stars are like beacons, each one too faint to emit enough light alone. Yet together, they are bright enough to light the sky, contrasting the darkness.  
  
I can feel it. It's different.  
  
I look down, and I see a hand. _My_ hand. The crease lines are familiar, every fingerprint matching my memory. I'm wearing a green shirt with a single yellow stripe across it, the one I always wore at home. The light beneath my feet flickers, showing me a reflection of my rosy-colored cheeks. This isn't your body. It's mine. I lift my hands hesitantly to my cheeks, feeling the heat of blood beneath them. It's real. Is it real? There's no way.  
  
When I look up, I see another child. We're close in age, with similar appearance, yet not quite. The child lacks any lines across their smooth hands, their face almost unnaturally pale. It's you.  
  
“Greetings. I am Frisk.”  
  
I can feel hot moisture in my eyes. I can't help it. If we're separated like this, then it can only mean one thing. This is goodbye.  
  
“You erased me.”

 


	18. Chapter 18

“You erased me.”

I can think of no other answer. The tears stream silently down my face. There's no reason to act strong now. There's no one to impress, and I've already failed my own expectations. This isn't the way I wanted to die – to be forgotten by everyone and quietly disappear.

“No,” you shake your head. “That isn't true. Please do not cry.”

For a moment, the faintest flutter of hope stirs in my chest; a small light in a well of darkness. In all of our time together, you've never once lied to me. Your voice is unusually clear and calm, like when you speak to me in your mind, instead of how you normally fumble with words. 

With the back of my sleeve, I wipe away the water from my face, trying to steady my breath. “I know you erased something.”

“I would never harm you. I know you can still be saved, Chara.”

I smile derisively at your words. “Even after all I've done? Destroying all your friends... taking over your body... Won't you ever learn? There's nothing good left in me.”

I laugh quietly. I don't know when I came to the realization. Maybe it was a gradual process, and something I never consciously took the time to comprehend.

“Gaster, Sans, Asriel... they're all right. Whatever I used to be isn't the same as what I am. Even if I pretend it's for revenge, even if I get lost in anger, that's not the real reason. I just want everyone to suffer and die. There's no logic behind it. And when you tell me that I can be saved, it just makes me want to prove you wrong.”

“I know,” you say patiently. “None of my words or actions will reach you... as you are now. That is why... I erased all of your memories.”

My breath freezes.

“I have seen moments of your past,” you continue. “You were once a kind person, but you died a bitter person. You felt cheated and betrayed, and that everything you had done was worthless. Ever since then, your heart has been frozen in place. It is filled with everything you felt upon your death. Does a single moment of wishing ill mean that the person is evil...? I refuse to believe that. It's why I have to remove your memories. Right now, there is no room for you to feel the kindness or warmth from others.”

Now I really am laughing. Laughing and laughing, squeezing the last tears out of my eyes. “D-do you really think it's that simple? That it's just my memories that make me want to hate. There's nothing good left in me. I'll just go back to the way I am now.”

“No, you won't. I believe in you.”

“You're placing a lot on blind faith,” I sneer.

“It's not blind faith.”

My smirk falters.

“Before you and I met, I was empty inside,” you explain. “I could understand words, but there was no feeling. Then, Gaster gave me a soul. It was like the world opened before my eyes. At first, I just wanted simple things – to avoid pain, and then to not be alone. But the more time that passed, the more I felt the echoes of the hopes and dreams of the previous owner... things like love and mercy; a gentle soul who wanted to be strong and repay kindness.”

“Shut up. You think you understand anything about me? I wasn't any of those things.”

“You were a good person, Chara. More than a good person. You wanted to be a hero. You didn't want anyone to worry, so you didn't tell them that you were risking your life. You died hoping that you could free everyone.”

“That's not me.”

“Your heart is so very full, Chara. Full of all the hatred you carried on the moment you died. But I was empty, so I felt the good along with the bad. That is why I know that your goodness still exists. Your heart just needs to become empty again.”

“It won't work,” I insist. I can't let go of this hatred inside me.

“It will work. I can help you be the hero that you always wanted to be.”

“I'll kill everyone.”

“We'll free everyone from the Underground. We'll make it past the barrier.”

“Even with my memories erased, I'll still be in your head. I'll realize what happened the moment you slip.”

“I erased my memories, too,” you smile.

I stop. My threats sound hollow, even to me. “You're going to throw away all the memories you made... just to give me a chance?”

I can't help it. You told me not to cry, but here I am again. Your determination... it's unreal. “If we fall into a different timeline, none of your friends will remember you. Your only keepsake of them is your memories. And... now you're throwing them all away, just because you think I might become a better person? For all you know, you could change, too. You might end up even more messed up than me. ” 

You move closer to me. Without hesitation, you wrap your arms around my body, pulling me into an embrace. Tears are streaming down my face. My hands remain limp at my side, not bothering to return the hug. But I don't push away. I know I don't deserve this. 

“Don't worry so much,” you say calmly. I can't help but smile wryly through the tears – you, giving me a command. Our roles have reversed so much since when we first met. “There's an infinite amount of possibilities, just like this space we're in. We'll find the right way. I'm sure of it.”

We stay like this, for a long while. I don't move, and neither do you. There's no reason for me to fight it. You've already made your choice.

“Frisk...” Your name sounds strange on my tongue. There's still one more reality I need to face, before we lose all our memories. “It... was never really my soul, was it? That's why I couldn't control your body when I first woke up. Why I couldn't do anything unless you let me.”

You don't answer immediately. “I'm like your soul's keeper. I'm here to make sure it stays in good condition. Maybe that's why I can see the good things still in your heart.”

You finally extract yourself, still smiling at me. “Are you ready, Chara? Whichever new timeline we find ourselves in... We'll make the same friends all over again. You'll finally be the person you want to be.” You offer your hand. I look at it, but I can't bring myself to take it. So instead, you grab my hand for me. “We'll do this together.”

I close my eyes. We won't in this strange space realm forever. Gaster had said we'd find ourselves to some kind of physical object that tied us to our original timeline. So... what will the new world be like?

And who will I become? I could become a ruthless killer again.

Or I could be the hero from an old dream.

There's nothing left but to move forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this was a book, you'd notice that the pages are getting pretty thin...  
> And as you turn the next page, there's no such thing as a Chapter 19... Just this thing called an epilogue. (Or maybe just noticed that I updated the total chapters to 18/19.) I'll do my full thanks and plans on the next one, but thanks for reading this far! This was the official last chapter, but the epilogue will be closing a lot of stuff up.


	19. Epilogue

Alphys knew that Sans was far from punctual. That's why she had told him to arrive fifteen minutes before she actually wanted to meet him. Still, a full half-hour had passed, and the skeleton was a no-show.  
  
Alphys was waiting at the elevator between her normal lab workspace and the true laboratory. Next to her was a makeshift wooden cart. Manual labor was far from her strong suit, but she'd managed to put together a few wooden panels and attach some wheels to them. She needed to return her research materials. It was only respectful to the royal family. King Asgore had donated his human child's body and appointed her Royal Scientist in the same moment. Yet, there was nothing left to be learned from the still corpse inside the coffin.  
  
She was grateful, really. All of her experiments had failed miserably. The only one that showed any promise, the golden flower, had vanished in the night. It was tempting to give up on science completely, but she couldn't just quit such a high-ranking position. Most of her determination experiments were based off of mysterious blueprints; ones she didn't fully understand. At first she'd been adamant on figuring out their meaning and who the original owner was, but now, she just didn't care if the mystery went unsolved.  
  
Sans knew all this. That's why he didn't protest when she told him that she was going to close the basement lab for good.  
  
But where was he? Alphys couldn't very well lock him in the true lab forever.  
  
It took her another thirty minutes before she finally worked the courage to enter the elevator, descending to the basement level, and leaving the coffin momentarily behind. She hated to confront him directly, but she had told him multiple times that this was the day.  
  
Timidly she knocked on his door.  
  
No answer.  
  
She waited a few seconds, but nothing. She knocked again, this time a bit harder. “Sans?” Alphys called out to the impassive steel.  
  
More time passed and she feared what would happen if he didn't answer. What if something had happened? What if he never wanted to leave, and this was his way of refusing?  
  
The door scraped partially open. The skeleton was unharmed, despite Alphys's fears. He blinked blearily at her, one hand rubbing an eye socket. “hey. what's up?” He yawned.  
  
_Had he just woken up?_ Alphys froze. This was bad. Part of her wanted to be angry. Part of her hoped he wouldn't be angry with him.  
  
“U-um... Sans? Are – are you ready to go? I... Today's the day, I mean... I was, er, w-we were going to return the first human a-and close the lab.”  
  
“is it that day already? my bad, i've been losing track of time lately,” he smiled sheepishly.  
  
“Y-you have a d-different place set for y-you to stay, right?” Fear gripped her at his words. She couldn't just toss him out on the street.  
  
“yeah, don't worry. i've got a place up in snowdin that pap and i can go. but, eh...” He opened the door further. Behind him was the time machine. The thing had been too complicated for Sans and Alphys to figure out – and had likely belonged to the mysterious owner who had left behind so many blueprints. “i need to move this with me, still. i can't just leave it locked up here; not when the owner's still stuck inside. it'd be cruel if he ever came back, you know?”  
  
Alphys fell silent. Sans had been obsessed with the thing when he first started working in the lab, but the more time that passed, the less time he spent with it. From the clues they had gathered in the lab... they had both had another coworker. Somehow he'd 'fallen into' the machine. But moving that thing was going to be a pain and a half...  
  
“here, you go on ahead. just leave me the keys, and i'll lock up for you. i'll leave them on your desk,” he offered.  
  
Alphys nodded. That seemed like an acceptable compromise. She wasn't looking forward to her journey alone, but Sans still needed his last minute preparations. “Okay,” she dug up the keys, handing them to the skeleton.  
  
His smile softened. “take care, alphs.”  
  
This was the last time they'd probably see each other, after all. “You... You too. Th-thanks for helping me.”  
  
“heh. we're coworkers, alphs. means we're on the same team, so that's what we do. don't need to thank me for that.”  
  
“I'll visit you in Snowdin, sometime. Then you can introduce me to your brother.” Now that the day was finally here, she felt bad for not being better friends with Sans. Coworkers, sure. But they'd never been that close. “G-goodbye!”

With the lab taken care of, Alphys began her trip to Home. The cart was a bit rickety, squeaking loudly in a way that made her self-conscious. Even so, she managed to arrive and load it onto the ferry. Then when it finally stopped, she had to trudge through the snow, all the while pulling the contraption behind her. It was hard work, and she did feel slightly bitter about Sans's lack of help, until she managed to reach the road. After taking a few minutes to catch her breath, she continued on.  
  
Home was the simple name that monsters gave to their new town. As they explored further Underground, Home was eventually abandoned. It was more of a memorial of sorts now. As Alphys continued to plod down the road, she could see the Queen waiting for her. The King was supposed to be here too, but...  
  
“Hello,” Queen Toriel waved cheerfully, even from a distance.  
  
Alphys couldn't bare to keep the Queen waiting long, and hurried as fast as she could. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't get out any words between her panting. She did manage a shaky bow at least.  
  
“Oh! There is no need to trouble yourself so on my account,” Toriel smiled. “Here, I will take this the rest of the way.” She grabbed onto the handle, starting to drag it further into the tunnel.  
  
“B-b-but, shouldn't we wait for the King?”  
  
“Hmph. My husband has made every excuse in the world to avoid this date. So no, he will not be joining us. He is too worried about the political backlash of attending a human's funeral, even when it is his own adopted child. This will just be a quiet affair, to grant my child peace.”  
  
Alphys bit her lip, but followed after the Queen obediently.  
  
“I appreciate your assistance,” Toriel's voice softened. “It is human tradition to bury the dead, so it is only fitting that we do the same for my child. You cannot understand how difficult it was for me to even allow scientists near their body. Yet Chara was a brave soul, always willing to go out of their way to help others. I know this is what they would have wanted.”  
  
They passed through the town that had once been called Home. It was the very first place monsters had settled, but they had moved elsewhere after exploring the Underground further. All that was left were tall buildings; remnants of a time now forgotten. The inside was completely silent except for the creaky wheels and the steady rhythm of their feet.  
  
They traveled through the ghost town, eventually reaching the end of the cavern. Faint light managed to filter from above. Looking to the ceiling, Alphys saw a maze of vines and moss. Just one small clear patch remained, shining a pure beam of sunlight down to the dusty earth. Where the sunlight touched, beautiful golden flowers bloomed. In the middle, the earth had been parted like the sea; the perfect depth for the coffin.  
  
Toriel gently removed the protective cloth that had been placed for the sake of privacy. Then she lifted the casket as if it weighed nothing, gently placing it inside the waiting tomb. Toriel stared longingly at the heart-engraved wood, but made no move to open it. Closing her eyes, she folded her hands in silent prayer.  
  
Alphys watched mutely. She had never known the human personally. Working with a dead body, she'd honestly found it pretty creepy. Monsters didn't leave behind shells like humans did. But seeing the Queen like this... seeing the earth ready to accept the body into its fold... it made Alphys realize that this had been a person, once. A real person, who had loved people, and been loved by people.  
  
“Th-they must have been a great person,” Alphys blurted, and immediately regretted it. She just didn't know what to say, and the silence had been eating her.  
  
The Queen lifted her eyes from prayer and just smiled. “Yes, they were. I am sure the two of you would have been great friends.” She took a handful of dirt from a small pile near the hole, dusting the coffin lightly. Then she picked up the shovel, and began the arduous process of filling it completely. “They were such a quiet, yet willful child. Their presence made us monsters hope that one day, peace between our races could be achieved. I still believe in that dream.” The casket disappeared beneath each shovelful of dirt, until it was hidden completely. Toriel leveled the ground, before scattering a pawful of seeds on top. “Every ideal is worth nuturing. No matter how fantastic, time is all it needs to grow.”  
  
She turned back to Alphys. “I'm going to stay here a bit longer, so you go on ahead back home. Again, thank you. It might seem a small memorial, but I am glad that at least one other person was here to say goodbye to my child.”  
  
“Yeah, no problem,” Alphys took that as her cue to leave. The Queen needed some time to grieve alone. “L-let me know if I can do anything else for you, Queen Toriel.” She managed a bow, before turning to leave.  
  
She was traveling through a particularly dark corridor when she noticed a strange beam of light, with a little patch of grass. There, a single golden flower bloomed. The flower had a face.  
  
Alphys stopped. It was her determination project that had gone rogue and escaped. But what was it doing here?  
  
“Howdy, Alphys,” the flower cheerfully waved a leaf at the scientist.  
  
“F-Flowey...?” Despite the other's beaming gaze, Alphys felt a shiver run down her back.  
  
“Everyone's here to say goodbye, huh. I couldn't help but overhear how _wonderful_ of a person they were. How they inspire Monsters to become better people, and some kind of dream for the future! Golly, it's pretty amazing to me. It's like everyone's forgotten who they really were... well, I guess they have.”  
  
“Uh-uhm....”  
  
“They really were a great person, though. Yeah, I've been thinking more and more, about how _right_ they were. In this world, it's kill or be killed. I've had so much more fun after coming to that realization! I don't know why I didn't listen sooner. Oh, but you're probably wondering why I'm here, haha.”  
  
She was, actually. Not that she was about to interrupt a flower on a madman's monologue.  
  
“I know what you did,” Flowey's smile revealed rows of disproportionately large teeth. “And I know all about those things you keep in that creepy basement. Keep that in mind, the next time I need... a favor.”  
  
Before she could answer, the flower ducked its head, burrowing under the ground. Alphys released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The sooner she got back to her lab, the better.  
  
The trip back home passed peacefully enough, despite her nerves. Everything was right where she left it, a messy pile of anime DVDs and research material. The keys to the true lab were on the computer monitor, where Sans had said he'd leave them.  
  
Alphys sighed. It had certainly been a long, eventful day. The rest of work could wait for tomorrow. For now, she grabbed a pack of instant noodles and began heating them in the microwave. It seemed like a nice night to just watch some anime in pajamas.  
  
She was done with determination experiments. For now, she was just going back to a normal scientist, and a normal life.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
You're falling.  
  
Air whistles through your hair, your hands frantically trying to find something that doesn't exist. You crash to the ground, fall broken by a bed of golden flowers. Ceremoniously they have crumpled beneath your weight, bowing as if to accept a new ruler. You sneeze a clod of soil, shakily rising to your feet. Wiping the mud off your hands and on your pants, you look up. There's a faint beam of light streaming fromabove, all the way down to the golden flowers.  
  
It's a miracle that you didn't break anything from such a long distance. You can't quite remember how you fell down or even what you were doing before that. Well, if you can't remember, it probably wasn't very important, anyway.  
  
_I don't even remember my own name,_ you think.  
  
Then it's good that I remember it for you.  
  
Your name is Chara.  
  
You smile at that satirical little voice in your head. For now, you decide to leave the bed of golden flowers. Whatever adventure awaits, you will find your way back home, even if you can't remember it. And I'll be here every step of the way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end!! First off, super thanks to my beta reader Nym, who's been helping me out since around chapter 10 or so and for each chapter after.
> 
> Second off, thank YOU for reading! I still have the shock of what! Someone wants to click/ check out / read my story?? -awe- (Seriously there were a lot of chapters where I doubted what I was writing, but even small encouragement is very helpful for me – I have a bad habit of getting so worried about what I'm doing that I never finish.) Chapter 1 was something I got inspired to write at about 2 am, hard to believe it became a full fledged story after lol.
> 
> For future writings... well, I think my multi-chaptered fan fiction days are over, at least for now. I know I wouldn't have the stamina to complete another. But, I have some short stories in mind so I'll likely be writing a few oneshots here and there, before wandering off to work on some other non-fanfiction projects.
> 
> Thanks for reading! It's been a fun journey.


End file.
